Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground
by slaygirl190
Summary: Sequel to The Summer of Punk. CM Punk and John Cena are in a committed relationship but can it withstand the constant pressures of the WWE
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE, not even a single share.**_

_AN: The beginning of this chapter will seem familiar because I chopped it off the end of The Summer of Punk so that the story had an actual ending point._

**September 19, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

Even though both men would rather be someplace with a bed or an out of the way storage closet, they still had a match to win.

Once they were both at ringside, John started off the match against Miz. As they tagged in and out their chemistry as opponents was only amplified as tag team partners. John couldn't stop smiling and Punk could feel the corners of his mouth turning up as well.

John was taking most of the punishment in the match. Punk had a theory that this was probably intentional on John's part. John eventually tagged him in Punk making short work of Truth and Miz; hitting the GTS on Miz he got the pin.

John jumped in the ring, lifting Punk's arm in the air with so much force he thought John was going to rip it out of its socket. They were both celebrating in the ring together when Triple H's music queued up.

Triple H came out with a mic, "Punk, good match, Miz, Truth, you're fired," and with that Triple H walked backstage.

Miz and Truth were standing, dumbfounded, outside the ring and John and Punk couldn't help smiling at each other.

John walked closer to Punk, "you get a good match Punk and I get nothing. Looks like you have a new best friend."

"Oh shut up you," and then Punk saw Miz and Truth take off running for the backstage area.

"John, hurry your ass up, I have no idea what's going to happen but I definitely don't want to miss it."

By the time they got backstage they saw an extremely disheveled Triple H walking away and a roster in disarray.

"Damn it! Morrison, what did we miss?"

"Miz and Truth jumped Triple H and then he had them thrown, kicking and screaming, out of the building."

"I can't believe I missed that. Someone better upload this quick to YouTube so I can see those two get ejected bodily from the building."

John and Punk returned to their hotel room, barely able to keep their hands off each other the entire trip from the arena and up the elevator. They both rushed into the room, slamming the door behind them, clothes flying everywhere.

"I thought you were injured," John said breathlessly.

"Adrenaline, nature's crack. Do you want to fuck me or should I start putting clothes back on?"

"Try it and I'll burn every stitch of clothing that you own."

They fell to the bed, kissing feverishly when there was a knock on the door.

"Punk, its Hunter. I need to talk to you."

"Shit! It's Triple H!"

"Come on Punk, I know you're in there."

"Just a second."

Punk started throwing his clothes back on. John grabbed him forcefully, kissing him intensely.

"Get rid of him. I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't remember anything but my name," and John walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Punk answered the door, Triple H walking right in.

"Listen. I know you and I will probably never like each other, but after last night I know we respect each other. I just want to get some things straight because I have the feeling that me firing Truth and Miz isn't going to stop the WWE's current slide into chaos. I was pissed when I had to ask you, of all people, to come back to the WWE. I may have said some things that weren't exactly the truth, but I was just so furious about the whole situation. I set the match for Hell in a Cell because you deserve…wait, don't you room with Cena?"

"Yeah."

"Where is he?"

"Bathroom."

"Why don't you tell him to come out of his hiding place? I don't care if he hears this."

"Uh…"

Triple H kicked something with his foot, "I assume these aren't your jorts?"

"How do you know that? Maybe I like to dress up as John Cena in my private life."

"Jesus Fucking Christ. If Cena's clothes are scattered all over the floor then…Holy Shit," and Triple H closed his eyes, as if trying to ward off the visual. "Why don't you take loverboy his clothes and get his ass out here."

Punk rounded up John's clothes and as he approached the bathroom the door open and crack and Punk passed John his clothes. John came out a minute later.

"You two, sit."

John and Punk sat next to each other on the side of the bed. John reached out his hand to grasp Punk's but Punk quickly moved his hands out of reach. John instead curled his hand around Punk's bare knee.

"Could you two refrain from touching each other in my presence? I'm going to have to get a lobotomy as it is. Listen, you two are consenting adults and I'm your boss not your father. Just know that this can never get out."

"Do you think we don't know that," Punk said indignantly.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

Punk and John remained silent.

"I'm going to take that as a yes, but I've never heard a whisper about anything between you two so they must be trustworthy."

Punk just laughed.

"You are not exactly inspiring me with confidence."

"Listen, we've been doing our jobs with no complaints about our performance. We can handle ourselves," John said seriously.

"Fine. Please, God, let's never talk about this again."

Triple H walked toward the door, but turned around with his hand on the doorknob, "Stephanie is going to love this," and Triple H left the room.

Both men stared at the closed door, neither able to process what had just occurred.

"Did we just get cockblocked by The Game?" John asked with a hint of frustration in his voice.

**September 20, 2011**

"Mom, you can stop staring at the door, it's not going to make him get here any faster."

"I thought you two were flying in together?"

"They asked him at the last minute to do an autograph signing and he doesn't know how to say no when it comes to his fans," Punk said with slight irritation lacing his response.

"Shouldn't you at least be nervous, you are bringing him home to meet your mother?"

"If I'm nervous about anything it's you trying to steal him out from under me."

"Out from under you, really?"

"Can't you go bake some cookies and not try to read sexual intent into everything I say?"

"If I was a baked goods sort of mom you wouldn't be so devastatingly witty, you would be boring, like a dentist or something."

"Stop. You're going to give me nightmares."

There was a knock at the door. Punk remained seated as there was no way he was going to outpace his mother who moved faster than the majority of the guys he was frequently in the ring with. She opened the door so quickly that it bounced on its hinges because it could not be opened any wider. John was on the other side.

"Hello, Mrs. Brooks. It's so nice to meet you finally, these are for you," and John handed over a bouquet of flowers.

Punk stood, catching John's gaze over his mother's shoulder, and rolled his eyes with as much exaggeration as he could. His boyfriend was a mother's wet dream.

"These are so lovely, let me just go get a vase to put these in," she said as she left the room.

"Did you have to bring my mother flowers? Now she's going to expect them all the time."

"You don't send you mother flowers?"

"Not usually, no, but because of you and your chivalry I'm going to have to now aren't I."

"I had to bring her something nice; she brought you into the world didn't she."

"Have you been reading romance novels to come up with a line like that? You must want something."

"Can't I just be nice?"

"To my utter mortification you are nice for the majority of the hours during the day and often to people who don't deserve your niceness in the slightest. You don't usually pull your John Cena act on me, you must want something."

"As a matter of fact I do want something from you," John said heatedly, his eyes drifting down to Punk's feet and raking up the rest of his body until they were eye to eye again. "Triple H ruined what was going to be a fantastic night. Anticipation is exciting and all but I would much rather instant gratification."

"Well, we are currently in my mother's living room and while she would delight in walking in on us making out on the couch like a teenagers I like we had better just sit down and brace ourselves for the Spanish inquisition."

They took a seat on the couch. Punk's mother came back into the room, placing the flowers on the coffee table.

"Philip, up, go sit on the chair, I want to sit next to your man."

Punk immediately rose and went to sit across the room.

"What was that?" John asked with barely contained laughter in his voice.

"Philip is very well behaved with the right motivation."

John just remained silent. He had affected the same behavior from Punk on occasion but there was usually the threat of orgasm denial involved.

"So, what is a polite man like you doing with my son? You're so nice and clean-cut and not a tattoo in sight. You're about a thousand steps up from the usual miscreants he dates."

"Mother!"

"What? You're the one that was suffering from abysmally low standards and now you bring home someone, that I hate to say, is out of your league personality-wise. I watch the show on occasion; my son has frequently behaved like a jackass towards you on multiple occasions."

"I love all your son's qualities, even the jackass ones."

"You must have the patience of a saint, lord knows I don't. There have been times I wanted to take a switch to him with his constant backtalk."

"Can I leave the room? I want to still be speaking to both of you by the end of the day. If I stay for any more of this conversation I'm going to bail on both of you."

"I'll go get us drinks so Philip can collect himself as he obviously needs to."

"Let me help you," John said, getting up and following Punk's mother into the kitchen.

When they returned to the living room Punk was exactly where they had left him, he had not made a break for it.

"Glad to see that you're still here. Now what can I do to embarrass you further. How about baby pictures," Punk's mother said gleefully.

She walked to the bookcase and laid her hand briefly on an empty shelf.

"Philip Jack Brooks! Where are all of my photo albums?"

Punk tried to look innocent, but that expression was utterly lost on him.

"They're still in the house."

"Where in the house?"

"You'll find them eventually, hopefully long after we're gone."

"You're the worst son ever, I hope you know that."

* * *

><p>"Did you really have to pull that on your mother?"<p>

"Oh she deserved it and she has no room for complaints. She knows damn well she raised a devious child and not an altar boy. There was no way those pictures were going to see the light of day. There's one album that is me, frolicking in the tub, completely naked. If she knew a little bit more about how to use the internet my naked ass would be all over the web."

"You know, I have some particularly risqué photos of you on my laptop. I wonder what the internet would think of those."

"Please tell me you know what password protection is. Also, would you really want naked pictures of your boyfriend floating around the internet?"

"Hell no! You do realize that you just called me your boyfriend. You've never done that before."

"What am I supposed to call you? My special friend, my significant other, none of the available options work for me. You're just going to have to settle for boyfriend."

"I have no problems with that title."

Punk unlocked the door to his apartment, opening the door wide so that John and his luggage could enter.

"What happened to your futon? I have extremely fond memories of that thing."

"A, I learned it was not conducive to sex and B, I make more money now and can afford a couch."

John rushed Punk, toppling them both onto his new couch.

"You know what they say about new furniture, it needs to be properly broken in."

**September 24, 2011**

Punk had spent the last two shows emotionally conflicted, bouncing between professional elation at beating del Rio twice and sexual frustration as John was not booked at either of these house shows. John was off on some whirlwind publicity and autograph signing tour. He was pretty sure Triple H had arranged it that way just to spite him.

Punk was walking out the arena door on his way to his hotel room when he was waylaid by Melina.

"What are you doing here? I didn't see you on the card."

"I'm traveling with John. Good thing to because he is in a terrible mood. Better for him to take it out on me than some random co-worker or road agent."

"I can imagine. If I had been beaten out twice for the US Championship by Ziggler I'd be in a pretty foul mood as well."

"Come out to dinner with us. If there is a third person there his mood might improve."

"If you wanted mood improvement you should see my boyfriend. I'm not known for my infectious sunny disposition."

"Very true. Well at least he'll have someone new to complain to."

"That's more my speed."

"Where's your congenial other half?"

"Off on some tour delighting his pre-pubescent fans all over the Midwest."

"I haven't had my usual opportunity to watch my favorite soap opera. How are you and John doing these days?"

"I let him meet my mother."

"Oh, that's a big step, how did that go?"

"My mother tried her hardest to convince John that he was too good for me and then she tried to embarrass the hell out of me. I averted that second crisis by sheer underhandedness and I don't think John can be convinced to get rid of me, even though we're wrestling each other at Hell in a Cell."

"How is that going to work out?"

"I'm hoping we can eliminate del Rio completely from the picture then settle things between us, but this is the WWE. A straight up wrestling match with a clean finish is too much to hope for. Also, you and John now have some company in the knowledge of what is really going on between me and John."

"From the look on your face I don't think I even want to know but tell me anyway."

"Triple H, and probably Stephanie too by this point."

"How in the hell did that happen?"

"Triple H came to our room and figured out what was going on when John couldn't come out from his hiding place in the bathroom because we had left his clothes strewn about the room. He followed the obvious clues to the correct conclusion."

"The poor thing must have been shocked senseless. I would give almost anything to have seen the look on his face."

"He's probably written fifty letters of resignation since then just to avoid having to come face to face with us again."

"You just better hope that the billion dollar princess doesn't want to go on a double date."


	2. Chapter 2

**September 26, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

"Our first Raw without Miz and Truth. I can't say I'm sorry in the slightest that those two are gone. At this point I was used to them interfering where they don't belong but I have a feeling someone new is going to pop up and insert themselves into my matches," Punk said to John as they walked into the backstage area of the arena.

"I have to say that I prefer Triple H's version of firing people to Vince's. Vince draws it out like it's some Shakespearean drama; Triple H just nonchalantly says two words then walks away."

Punk and John saw a road agent walking toward them.

"What matches are we booked in tonight?" John asked smiling as if he didn't have a care in the world. He had met Punk's mom, a huge step in any relationship and had spent a phenomenal weekend where Punk barely let him leave the bed. He couldn't be any happier right now if he tried.

"Uh…"

"I don't like that sound. What, am I scheduled in some horrendous handicap match?" Punk asked waiting for the hesitant road agent to deliver the information that he was sure he wouldn't appreciate one bit.

"Actually Triple H hasn't scheduled anything for tonight yet."

"But it's only one hour before the show starts…" John commented, his good mood starting to drain away by this unwelcome revelation.

"I don't know what to say. I would suggest putting your gear on just in case you're called to the ring on short notice."

"Thanks, we'll do that," John said, dragging Punk down the hallway before he could go off on some already put upon road agent.

"Triple H has seriously gone round the bend if he's half assing running Raw."

"Maybe there's something we don't know about going on."

"Boy, that would be a change from the norm wouldn't it," Punk said with unveiled sarcasm.

"Let's just go get ready and see what happens."

"Fine, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop bitching about it."

John and Punk walked into their assigned locker room and found a group of their co-workers just as mystified as they were. There were a few Smackdown guys in the locker room including Christian who, these days, would turn around and walk in the other direction if he even saw Punk. John had gotten a few shots in on Christian the night he jumped him in the Raw locker room, but that didn't really do anything to decrease the hatred he felt for the man.

They locker room dressed slowly, doing more talking than dressing because no one had any motivation to get ready for a show that didn't have one single match scheduled. They finally all made their way to the monitor bay to see what the hell Triple H was up to. The COO walked by the group, obviously in a terrible mood, so no one said a word to him as he made his way to the arena entrance.

"While I do loathe these proclamations by the King of Kings he proved himself to be somewhat entertaining last week. Hopefully we'll get more of that instead of him going out there just to air out his gigantic ego," Punk said somewhat respectfully. The man had given him a title match and had not tossed him out the door when he found out about him and John. Punk was turning his attention to the screen when he saw a group of his co-worker's walking in the same direction as Triple H. It was Christian, Ziggler, Swagger, Vickie, and Rhodes.

"I have a feeling the show is getting ready to turn into World Whining Entertainment. Poor Triple H."

"Did you just saw 'poor Triple H'?"

"Yeah, I'd feel sorry for anyone who is going to have to deal with that lot, even Vince McMahon…okay maybe not Vince."

Both John and Punk turned their attention to the screen as the Raw title signature appeared on the monitor. Directly following that Punk's picture appeared on the screen along with Alberto del Rio's. Apparently Triple H had scheduled a main event when he arrived at the arena entrance.

"I'm glad that's what I have on my plate for tonight. You were too busy signing autographs to see me kick del Rio's ass all over the southwest at the house shows," Punk commented cheerfully.

"I'm surprised Triple H scheduled a match that he knew you would enjoy, did you forget to show me the friendship bracelet our COO gave you?"

"Ooh Cena sarcasm. Apparently kicking the man's ass all over the arena at Night of Champions is how you get on his good side, and why in the world is the cell hanging over the ring. The ring techs must be pissed at Triple H for making them do all that work just for show. I'm pretty sure the WWE Universe knows by now what kind of structure Hell in a Cell is."

Triple H's music cued up and he walked to the ring presumably to explain his actions the week before, but this was Triple H, he might feel that any explanations were unnecessary.

Triple H showed a video of Truth and Miz from YouTube where neither man showed any remorse for what they had pulled at Night of Champions.

"This is exactly why I do not have a YouTube account. Can you imagine what I would be tempted to do if I had an easy way of venting my frustrations to the world," Punk said while shaking his head. Sometimes the stupidity of other people just mystified him. Of course that video would get back to Triple H eventually. He crashed a sparsely attended panel at Comic Con and it was all over the world hours later. Triple H then announced that Mark Henry would have to pay a $250,000 fine after what he did to Ross and Lawler at the last Raw. Punk did not want to be the person that would have to collect that fine.

Triple H continued speaking but was interrupted by Vickie's grating voice, escorting Ziggler to the ring.

Ziggler started complaining about Hugh Jackman fracturing his jaw.

"I don't know what he's complaining about. I would love to take a hit to the jaw from Wolverine," Punk said way too excitedly considering Jackman had fractured Ziggler's jaw.

Ziggler was interrupted by Cody Rhodes who delivered the next complaint about Orton ripping his scalp open with a ring bell.

"I have to admit that maybe Rhodes has a point. I mean even after Randy made Rhodes bleed like a stuck pig he still continued on and then tried to put Rhodes through the announce table," John said with a bit of empathy.

"This is a contact sport no matter what people say about it. Having all that paraphernalia around the ring is just begging for people to use them. A few years ago Randy would've gotten a pat on the back for his actions. I remember when the WWE used to be about ruthless aggression. It's pretty strange that you're sitting here defending Rhodes and I'm taking Randy's side, he's not called the Apex Predator for nothing you know."

Rhodes was interrupted by Christian coming out to the ring. Both John and Punk groaned simultaneously.

"How much do you want to bet that he comes out there begging pathetically for one more match?" John said contemptuously.

One more match was exactly what Christian requested. Then Christian suggested that they were collectively going to file a lawsuit against Triple H.

Besides the whining, the common thread between all the complaints was Triple H's treatment of them. Triple H mocked them all mercilessly in turn. Triple H then addressed Christian's request for one more match. He booked Christian for one more match against Sheamus at Hell in a Cell, one more match on Smackdown against Randy Orton, and to top it all off, a match against John tonight at Raw.

Although Christian was clearly upset about how his request was being handled John was absolutely ecstatic.

"I think I'm a fan of Triple H's new on the spot booking. You and I both have been booked for exceptionally enjoyable matches for tonight. You get to kick del Rio's ass once again and I would never say no to an opportunity to knock Christian around some more, especially now that its company sanctioned. All that time that you and Triple H have been spending in your tree fort is paying off in dividends."

Punk just looked at John with a derisive expression.

Then Triple H addressed Ziggler. The award for his complaint was Triple H booking Ziggler in a title defense against Zack Ryder who had pinned him at the last Raw.

Then Triple H gave Rhodes the night off due to the 11 staples in his head. Rhodes then made the mistake of sarcastically responding to Triple H's decision. He kept talking, digging the hole he was in deeper. Triple H responded by scheduling a title match for Rhodes. Rhodes kept digging his hole and with every sentence he uttered Triple H kept adding opponents to the match until it ended up being a 10 man battle royal.

Triple H left the ring after his decrees for the night were finished. He had booked three more exceptional matches in the span of ten minutes.

Both John and Cena were laughing along with half the roster over what Triple H had just accomplished. A group of guys had made a break for the arena entrance, trying to make sure they were one of the first nine guys that Triple H happened upon.

"I'm surprised that you're not running out there to try to get a little more control in the WWE."

"Why would I do that when I'll have the WWE Championship in one week?"

"I'm pretty sure you're mistaken in that belief."

A road agent walked up to them, "Triple H wants you two to do commentary for each other's matches."

"No problem, I love commentary," Punk said excitedly and the road agent nodded and walked back to the arena entrance area.

"Thanks for agreeing on my behalf there. I'm absolute crap at commentary."

"You'll live. I'm pretty sure that your continued close proximity to me over the past months has made you wittier. Speaking of proximity, this almost assures that we'll be directly involved in each other's matches. It's time for CM Punk and John Cena to get their heads in the game. Whatever happens out there, it's all in the name of competition, right?"

"Right. Although I think the probability of you doing something illicit is much more likely on your part than it is on mine."

"Quite true. I'd have to physically drag you into the ring, knock you out, and then use your unconscious body as a weapon."

"I'm going to go and get into the right headspace for tonight. CM Punk, this is where we part ways for the night, see you out there."

Punk watched the screen where they showed Laurinaitis discussing this lawsuit with Otunga. Triple H had just poured more fuel on the fire after his booking spree in the ring. Otunga said they could sue for the WWE being an unsafe working environment. Punk thought that was one of the stupidest things he ever heard and that was saying something as he was employed by the WWE and had been witness to all manner of stupidity. After Otunga left Laurinaitis started texting. Punk would love to take that phone and stuff it in Laurinaitis raspy talking mouth.

Rhodes managed to win his match with the help of Christian and retain his title. After the girls and Mark Henry it was time for John's match against Christian. John was in full on Cena mode, his dimples on full display. John started talking about Hell in a Cell, but it didn't match his facial expression, it made it seem that John was actually looking forward to the match. John started to prepare for his match when del Rio's music cued up; apparently he had been asked to do commentary as well. John almost lost it when Punk came out in a suit coat. He wondered where he had stolen that from. Punk didn't own a stitch of clothing that could be considered business-like and it was way too big for him. Both men took their places on either side of the commentary table.

Christian made his way to the ring, obviously displeased with the situation he was in. Christian was scheduled in a match that he wanted no part of, probably partly in fact because he didn't want to give Cena another chance to beat the hell out of him.

John had his back to Punk but when Punk looked at the monitors on the commentary desk he could see John's face, he looked ready to take Christian apart. Punk found he had no problems with that scenario.

John started beating Christian silly the moment he stepped into the ring, starting before the bell ringer even had the change to do his job. John continued pummeling Christian and then threw him outside of the ring. He locked eyes with Punk before sliding out of the ring and slamming Christian into the announce table. Punk's eyes were still locked with John's, not seeing del Rio practically vault over Ross, Booker T and Cole and hit him with a punch to the head. Del Rio quickly resumed his position on the far side of the table, putting the three announcers between them to keep Punk from retaliating.

John threw Christian back into the ring, setting him up for the AA when del Rio dashed into the ring kicking John in the head. Punk quickly slid into the ring himself chasing off del Rio and preventing him from hurting John further. Obviously Phil was still lurking inside him somewhere. He clearly needed to try harder to distance himself from his and John's relationship before his match which John would have a front row seat for. He needed to take things to the next level even if it landed his boyfriend in the line of fire.

Punk came down the ramp to meet del Rio in the ring for his match. They were only in the ring for a few minutes before Punk tossed him outside. Punk thrashed him around ringside until they were right in front of the announce table. Punk grabbed del Rio and it looked like he was going to throw him into the ring steps until he whirled del Rio around and practically threw him into John's lap. Punk locked gazes with John, his smirk in full view and saluted John in a mockery of his ring entrance. Punk collected del Rio from the floor and tossed him back into the ring.

They were evenly matched until Punk hit del Rio with a vicious kick to the head and pinning the so-called Mexican aristocrat. Immediately after the pin the cell started to lower inexplicably. Though John wasn't exactly best pleased with his boyfriend at the moment there was no way that he was going to leave him alone with del Rio and his ring announcer in that cell.

The cell was fully lowered, locking the four men inside. John threw Rodriguez into the ring and slid in himself. Punk hit Rodriguez with the GTS and seconds later pushed Rodriguez to John who hit him with the AA. If it was del Rio being passed between them, it would be a preview of what was going to transpire at Hell in a Cell.

John was still looking at Rodriguez prone on the mat when he felt himself being lifted up. It was Punk trying to set him up for the GTS. He fought his way out of it and tried to AA Punk but he was unsuccessful.

While they were concentrating on each other John felt himself being hit in the back by a steel chair. He and Punk were too involved in each other and del Rio had capitalized on that. John heard the chair make contact again; looking to the side he could see Punk laid out on the mat. Del Rio hit him with the chair again and he was stunned. By the time he was somewhat recovered he saw Punk fly into the corner, through a chair and hit the ring post. Del Rio started taking turns, hitting John and Punk over and over with the chair. Del Rio's music cued up, apparently the guys in the production truck though del Rio had won that round.

The cell lifted, del Rio and his ring announcer walking back up the ramp as if he had already won the Championship. John and Punk were left laid out in the ring. Punk was up first, exiting the ring with John not far behind. When they reached the gorilla position away from the eyes of the WWE Universe, Punk and John both leaned toward each other, both propping themselves up by each other's bodies.

"Fuck me that hurt," Punk said through clenched teeth.

"Damn straight. I think you and I really need to work on not being so focused on each other when we're in the ring or neither of us is going to be walking out of Hell in a Cell with the title."

Triple H walked up and both men fell silent.

"I'm not even going to ask if you had anything to do with that out there Cena, but I will direct that question to your shadier half. Did you have anything to do with the cell being lowered?"

"Yeah, I asked the ring techs to do it so I could be hit with a steel chair repeatedly."

"I'll take that as a no. I'm going to physically dismantle the person responsible for all this chaos in the WWE when I find out who's behind it. By the way, excepting the cell incident, did you two enjoy your night?"

"I did enjoy getting another shot at Christian."

"I thought you would. And you Punk?"

"Kicking del Rio in the head was pretty gratifying."

"Well I didn't book those matches for your enjoyment. It was a test. You two pretty much were passing with flying colors until you got so wrapped up in each other that you forgot del Rio and his lap dog were locked in that cage with you."

"We promise we'll have things sorted out before Hell in a Cell," John said soberly.

"I have a request."

"What's that Punk?"

"There's a house show on October 1st. I'd like to be excused from it if that's at all possible."

"John, you want the day off too?"

"No, I'll be there."

"As long as one of you shows up I have no problem with Punk missing the show."

"Thanks Hunter. I just want to promise also that there won't be a repeat of tonight at Hell in a Cell."

"Wow, something polite just came out of your mouth that was aimed in my direction. You get some manners and Cena here is just getting progressively snarkier. I was pretty sure that the apocalypse was imminent after that night in your hotel room, but if you can get your act together at Hell in a Cell, I can only say that you two seem to be improving each other's personalities. Maybe I should start pairing the guys off and try to get the same effect. By the way, Stephanie and the girls were playing with a toy ring and action figures the other day. She orchestrated your marriage in the ring. And just if you're wondering, Punk, you wore the veil."

_AN: Thank you for your lovely reviews. I'm glad you're as excited to read this as I am to write it._


	3. Chapter 3

"You mind telling me what that was all about?" John said, completely confused.

"I think we should take some time apart before Hell in a Cell to get ourselves in the right headspace."

"Well I don't agree. Taking time apart will only make me miserable not more aggressive."

"I'm sorry you don't agree but it's what I need."

"Can I at least call you?"

"No. I don't think that would be very wise either."

"Please, please, Phil, don't do this to me."

"I'm going to be just as miserable as you, but at least it'll give me a negative emotion to thrive on. I felt like I had a split personality out there, torn between wanting to protect you and wanting to kick your ass. I can't be that conflicted when I walk into that cell."

"If you're sure that's what you need to perform at your peak then there's nothing more for me to really say to you," John said this while grabbing Punk's arm, dragging him down a deserted hallway. He found a door and opened it. It was a supply closet. "If we're going to be separated for a week you at least owe me a memory that I can relive during all those days and nights we'll be apart.

John divested himself of his jorts and boxers, and then pulling Punk's trunks down his legs until all Punk had on was his kick pads and boots. John looked around the closet but it was so small that it didn't have a table or any space to lie down in.

"Phil, jump up and wrap your legs around me."

Punk looked like he was conflicted between wanting to do what John said and wanting to walk away, putting the distance between them that he had requested a few minutes before. Punk was sucking his lip ring into his mouth, obviously trying to figure out what the best course of action would be. His need for John won out and he jumped up, wrapping his legs around John's waist, fusing his mouth to John's, kissing him like it was going to be the last time he ever did so. John turned around, slamming Punk's back against the door, letting it support some of Punk's weight so he could free his hands to lay them on any place on Punk's body that he could reach.

John caressed Punk's arms from wrist to shoulder, lifting them up so they were stretched over Punk's head against the door.

"You think you can live for a week without me by your side? I'm going to prove to you right now that you can't. Touch me and I'll drop you on your ass and leave you in this room to deal with this on your own," John said heatedly as he slid his hands down Punk's chest, wrapping his hand around Punk's cock trapped between their stomachs, stroking him so hard Punk's eyes closed, and then nodded vigorously, his had banging against the door with every movement of his head.

John took his hand off Punk's cock, Punk whimpering with hitched breaths. John moved his hands lover, wrapping them around the skin above Punk's knee pads, squeezing them roughly before stroking them up Punk's thighs, the movement of his hands ceasing when they met the crease between Punk's thighs and his ass.

"I'm going to dream about these wrapped around me every night we're apart."

John's hands continued upward until he had his hands full of Punk's ass, he gripped him firmly, his nails sinking into the skin until he was sure he was drawing blood. He was going to leave Punk so covered in his marks so that every time Punk looked in the mirror he would know who he belonged to.

John slid his lips down Punk's neck, stopping at the point where neck met shoulder and bit down hard. Punk moaned loudly and John heard Punk's head make contact with the door again. He started sucking fiercely, desperate to get as much blood to the surface as possible. He lifted his head, eager to see his handiwork. Punk had a massive hickey on his neck that was swiftly turning purple. Punk would be lucky if that faded away before Hell in a Cell.

John kissed Punk feverishly, desperate to store Punk's taste in his memory. John's hands moved to frame Punk's face, holding his heady steady as he devoured Punk's mouth. They kissed manically for a few minutes before John released Punk's head, moving his hands back down to Punk's thighs and hitching him higher up his body.

He moved his hand down to his cock, guiding it to Punk's hole and barely breaching him. He stayed still for a moment, the anticipation driving him practically insane. He was going to take Punk without lube or any sort of preparation; he wanted Punk to ache for days.

"John, please move, please…"

"I can't believe that you think you're in any position to ask anything of me."

John guided Punk's body lower, his cock penetrating Punk slowly until he was fully sheathed.

"God, Phil, you're so tight and warm, how can you possibly expect me to stay away."

John let his frustration with the entire situation direct his movements, pounding into Punk furiously

"John…" Punk was moaning John's name with every thrust. John buried himself to the hilt and stopped abruptly.

"No, No, John please keeping moving, please."

John slid his hands up Punk's arms, still hovering against the door. He clasped their fingers together, holding each other's hands for a few moments. John's head lowered to Punk's neck, breathing in his scent. John moved Punk's hands down, directing them to wrap around his body.

"I wanted to punish you but I'm only punishing myself. If I don't get to feel your hands all over me I'm going to die. Phil, I need you to touch me."

Punk took John's direction and his hands were running over any length of John's skin he could reach.

"Fuck me, please, John, I need you to fuck me."

John resumed his desperate pace, reaching down to wrap his hand around Punk's cock, jerking him in tandem with his thrusts. John felt his balls start to tighten, it was impossible to hold off his orgasm with the frenetic pace he had set.

"John, I'm so close…"

John resisted his orgasm until he felt Punk's walls tighten around him and his come splash against his stomach. He thrust a few more times, coming deep inside Punk. He stayed buried in Punk ass, not wanting to separate. John eventually pulled out, spreading Punk's thighs wider until they lost purchase against his body and his feet finally met the floor. John pressed his body against Punk, pinning him to the door. John had a feeling that his weight was the only thing keeping Punk on his feet.

John kissed Punk languidly now that the hysteria created by Punk's insistence on a temporary separation had passed. Their lips finally separated but John didn't move his head, content to just stare into Punk's eyes. Punk eventually broke the gaze and moved to step around John and picked up his trunks from the floor, pulling them back on.

John found a rag and cleaned off his stomach and then redressed himself.

They walked back to their locker room, their luggage the only bags left in the locker room.

"I'm going to take a quick shower and try to catch the red eye back to Chicago tonight," Punk said stepping close to John and kissing him chastely. "See you soon, I love you."

"If I didn't love you so much I'd strangle you right now."

"See, you're getting into the proper mindset already."

John pulled on a shirt and packed up his bag. Punk had sat down, taking off his kick pads and his boots. John just looked at Punk longingly for a few moments, then opened the door and let it close behind him.

**October 2, 2011**

_Hell in a Cell_

Punk was right about the separation putting him in the right headspace. He was so fucking miserable right now that he pitied the person who got in his way. John walked to his assigned locker room and instantly looked around for Punk. He found him at a locker with Evan and Morrison on either side of him. Punk didn't even look up.

John dressed silently and watched as Punk walked toward the door of the locker room and as much as John willed Punk to look his way, he kept walking, the door closing behind him.

After John finished dressing he went to the monitor bay. Punk was seated in the back with Melina next to him. John took a seat away from the rest of the roster, hoping he was emitting a signal that warned everyone to stay away from him. He felt someone sit next to him and he lifted his head to tear that person a new one. It was Randy. Randy was fucked up in the head enough to withstand any cruel comments thrown his way.

"I see you and Punk aren't attached at the hip as usual. You two break up or something."

"It feels that way, but no, Punk wanted some distance before our Hell in a Cell match."

"That boy is smarter than I gave him credit for."

"You agree with his behavior?"

"I do. I can't imagine dating someone in the business much less someone who I'd have to meet in the ring periodically. You both need to be focused on the title, not on each other."

"Right now all I'm focused on is tearing someone, anyone, limb from limb."

"Which is exactly what you should be feeling before a Championship match, especially one that is being held in the cell."

"Randy, no offense, but could you just stop talking and sit there quietly."

Randy didn't utter another syllable.

They watched the show in silence, even as Miz and Truth showed up at ringside with tickets. Laurinaitis had them escorted out of the building by security.


	4. Chapter 4

Randy eventually left for his match in the cell against Mark Henry and no one else on the roster proved brave enough to take the seat left vacant by Randy. The only other thing that really held his attention was when Miz and Truth were found beating the hell out of Kofi and Evan in the backstage area, being escorted out by security again, with Triple H yelling at Laurinaitis that he should have called the police.

Eventually it was time for his match. He watched Punk leave the monitor bay and then waited a few minutes before following him to the arena entrance. He waited around the corner as he heard Del Rio's music cue up and then Punk's. He walked to the arena entrance just as Punk turned the corner to walk out onto the ramp. His music cued up and he walked onto the ramp with del Rio and Punk waiting for him, already in the cell.

They were locked into the cell and the match began, Punk immediately going after del Rio, chasing him out of the ring into the narrow space between the ring and the cell. Rio kept ducking in and out of the ring trying to avoid both Punk and himself. Eventually he and Punk cornered him in the ring, each trying to take a turn on del Rio, throwing each other to the side to get their chance to punish del Rio.

Out of nowhere Punk tried to roll him up for a pin which was unsuccessful but it gave del Rio the chance to again escape the ring. He and Punk were left in the ring together, both hesitated for a few long moments and then they locked up. John was thrown out of the ring with del Rio trying to rush Punk but del Rio was also thrown outside the ring next to him. Both men were struggling to their feet as Punk came flying through the ropes, all three of them slamming into the cell wall and collapsing to the floor.

He saw Punk throw del Rio back into the ring and he could hear them fighting. They quieted and he could see Punk pulling a chair from under the ring. John went after Punk but del Rio interceded throwing Punk against the cell wall. He and del Rio were back in the ring but del Rio exited while he was down and threw a chair into the ring. John immediately went to work beating him down so that he didn't have the opportunity to use the chair.

Punk eventually made his way back into the ring, kicks flying everywhere. Punk turned around to kick del Rio again and he could see the blood running down Punk's back. Punk exited the ring and for some reason known only to Punk, he pulled a table from under the ring and set it up. Punk attempted to bulldog him onto the table but he threw Punk against the cell wall with as much strength as he could muster. For now, it was only him and del Rio fighting it out in the ring.

He was perched on the top rope, but Punk came out of nowhere, shaking the ring rope and sending him to the floor. He could hear Punk and del Rio in the ring but he was too shaken up to return to the ring. John eventually pulled himself together to get back in the ring. After some maneuvers back and forth all three men were laid out on the canvas. Del Rio recovered enough to leave the ring, procure the chair, and take turns hitting him and Punk with it.

The match went back and forth between the two men, frequently between Punk and himself alone. He was flat on his back and could see Punk climbing to the top rope. Del Rio came out of nowhere and pushed Punk off the rope and John heard a breaking sound which could only mean that Punk had gone through the table. Punk had probably been taken out of the match entirely. It was just him and del Rio left.

He had del Rio in the STF and when he looked up there, inexplicably, was Rodriguez on the ring apron. He got up to confront Rodriguez who then tried to attack him with some sort of weapon. He chased him out of the cell onto the bottom of the ramp and hit the AA. When he turned around del Rio struck him in the midsection with whatever weapon had been introduced into the match. When he recovered enough to get up, the cage door was locked and none of the officials had the key. There was no way he could get back into the cell; no way he could retain his title.

Del Rio began to attack a still prone Punk. Punk recovered and seemed to have the advantage over del Rio until he struck Punk in the head by what looked to be a lead pipe. Instead of pinning Punk del Rio exited the ring with the Pipe, mocking him from inside the cell with it. Del Rio finally returned to the ring but Punk was ready for him. He got a few kicks in until del Rio struck him with the pipe in the midsection and then struck him in the head with it again.

John had to watch as del Rio pinned Punk for the win. The cell began to rise and John slipped under it and began to beat the hell out of del Rio. He was attacked from behind with some sort of weapon. He turned around expecting Punk but it was someone else entirely, their face hidden behind a hoodie. He turned and there was another man with a baseball bat. The hood fell back from his face and it was R-Truth which meant the other person could only be Miz. They began beating everyone in the ring, no one, not even the officials and camera men were spared.

He could hear people yelling and shaking the cage. He could hear Triple H yelling profanities. The beatings ceased and from his view from the mat he could see police officers cuffing Miz and Truth.

When he finally recovered he exited the cell with the majority of the roster was standing there watching as Triple H struggled against two officials trying to hold him back.

He just walked past the roster and a still struggling Triple H and went to the locker room which was completely empty since everyone was out on the ramp. He sat down on a bench and stared at the floor in disbelief. He glanced at his forearm and it was smeared with something red, Punk's blood. If he would have known last Sunday how the week was going to turn out he would have chucked the title at del Rio's feet on Raw and taken off with Punk to Puerto Rico after they tendered their letters of resignation.

The locker room door opened and Punk walked in cradling his head.

"Are you okay?"

"My skull isn't cracked open if that's what you're wondering and my back is killing me."

"Yeah, you're pretty cut up back there, you were bleeding everywhere," John said, holding up his forearm and showing Punk the blood that had dried on his forearm.

Punk sat down next to him but didn't say a word. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I don't really know what to say to you right now," John said in a monotone.

"I don't either."

The roster started trickling back into the locker room. Punk got up and made his way to the shower. When he came out he put on his clothes and grabbed his things. As he was passing John pulled on the hem of Punk's shorts and Punk stopped and looked down at him.

"Where are you going?"

"To the trainer to get patched up."

John just nodded and watched Punk leave the locker room. John eventually showered, dressed, and caught a cab to the hotel. Once he got to his room, he collapsed on the bed and just stared at the ceiling. He didn't know if Punk would eventually find his way to their room, and if he did, John had no clue what he would say to him. Punk had made his life unbearable over the past week over a stupid belt that John truly didn't give a fuck about at this point. John spent an hour in that same position, thoughts churning in his head. He heard the lock engage on the door and Punk walked in, the door closing behind him, but Punk didn't venture any further into the room.

"Stop hovering and sit down."

John sat up and moved over to the side of the bed, leaving room for Punk to sit next to him. He saw Punk hesitate, looking at the space beside John and the bed opposite him. John knew that something as simple as Punk choosing where to sit would indicate where this conversation was going to ultimately end up. Punk finally chose the seat next to John, leaving a little space between them.

"We really fucked that up didn't we?"

"It didn't seem to matter that we stayed apart for a week; all we could see was each other while we were in that cell. If we hadn't been so intent on beating each other down and trying to prove something maybe del Rio wouldn't have been able to screw us so easily."

"We need to stop wrestling each other. This is the second pay per view that one of us walked into the match champion and neither one of us came home with the belt."

"Right now I could care less about the belt. I hope del Rio has it surgically attached to his waist. What I want to talk about is the past week. I told you once before never to run out on me again, that I couldn't take it and what did you do when the title was on the line, you ran again. You cut yourself off from me over a fucking belt."

"You have no idea what it's like to be me. You came up from developmental and everybody fell in love with you. I had to work my ass off in the indies to even get to the WWE and they were ready to sack me barely one year into my contract. You've never had to practically break yourself in half in money in the bank matches just to get a title shot. You've never had to cash in on people that were half dead just to get your hands on a Championship. You're The Champ and I'm just some also ran who managed to talk his way into the Championship picture. I have to take my chances as they come because there won't be an infinite amount of them. Maybe I behaved irrationally by running away but I was grasping at straws and it was the only thing I could think of to do at the time."

"I'm going to forgive you for making us both completely miserable over a piece of bling but understand this, the next time you bolt I won't chase you and I won't be here when you finally decide to wander back."

"I understand, I have a week's worth of memories of being utterly wretched."

"Is it wrong for me to be happy that you were just as depressed as I was while we were apart? No need to answer that. Let's just go to bed. I'm pretty sure Raw is going to be in anarchy after what went down tonight."

"But…"

"I know what you want to say. We have a whole bus ride from New Orleans to Lafayette tomorrow to figure out how to launder money to finance a hit on Miz and Truth. Honestly, all I want you to do right now is take you clothes off, get in this bed, and let me cuddle you."

Punk obeyed his directions directly and was in bed waiting for John to join him. Punk's eyes were glued to John's body, watching the muscles shift under his skin as he undressed. John turned around and saw Punk gazing at him intently.

"What are you staring at?"

"Just you. It's been months but I still can't get enough of your naked body. Watching you undress just now is definitely going in the spank bank which is pretty depleted at the moment considering I jerked myself raw while we were apart."

"I second that motion. That's another reason for you to stay in my proximity. I'm available for sex pretty much around the clock. Like I've said before, when it comes to you, John Cena is easy."


	5. Chapter 5

**October 3, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

John and Punk walked into the locker room and the place was in absolute turmoil. Vickie and Otunga must have been canvassing the entire roster trying to get them involved in their lawsuit.

John and Punk got dressed and then went to find a road agent to see what they were scheduled for. They finally found a frazzled looking agent. The general unease seemed to be contagious.

"You're both scheduled in the main event. A 12 man tag with you two and Sheamus, Mason Ryan, Kofi and Evan against del Rio, Christian, Ziggler, Swagger and Otunga."

They went to the monitor bay and took their seats waiting for the show to start. The roster filed in but no one was really watching the show. Everyone was talking amongst themselves about the current state of affairs.

John had to admit that the matches were pretty boring thus far until they showed Laurinaitis backstage with the same group of complainers as last week with a new addition, del Rio. Apparently, Otunga had been busy, handling a lawsuit filed by Miz and R-Truth against Triple H for assault. The group decided to return to the ring again to speak out against Triple H. Vickie said they were going to present their cases to the WWE Universe. John was pretty sure that the WWE Universe would not come down on the side of that group in the ring.

The only person that John thought had a legitimate grievance was del Rio. After all he had been attacked at Hell in a Cell just like him, Punk, and everyone else unlucky enough to be stuck in the cell with them.

Del Rio, Christian, Rhodes, Ziggler, Swagger, Vickie and Otunga took turns passing the mic between them; the common thread was each one of them blaming Triple H for the actions of Miz and Truth making the WWE an unsafe working environment. This was a contact sport where unsanctioned violence was often the order of the day. John had never been so happy to hear Triple H's music cue up and bring a halt to the farce in the ring.

Triple H came out and echoed John's thoughts on this whole situation. Triple H's closing suggestion was the first smart thing that had come out of anybody's mouth the whole show, 'Shut Up and Fight.'

Later in the show footage was shown of Laurinaitis and Triple H in the COO's office. Laurinaitis suggested that Triple H ask for a vote of confidence meaning asking the roster what they thought of the job that Triple H was doing. John knew Triple H well enough to know that he didn't give a damn what the roster thought of him. The best part of the whole segment was when Triple H grabbed Laurinaitis by his tie looking like he was practically choking the man. John's attention was drawn away from the screen by Punk standing up beside him and applauding what he was seeing on the screen. John shared his enthusiasm for Laurinaitis being threatened by the COO, but he wasn't about to start cheering at the screen. Everyone else at the monitor bay was staring at Punk like he was crazy. At that moment John tended to agree with them, his boyfriend was indeed prone to craziness at times. John couldn't believe that Triple H was agreeing to this vote of confidence thing.

He and Punk walked with the rest of their team to the arena entrance for their match. The opposing team was already there. Otunga approached them, "Listen; there's no need to go out there and satisfy Triple H's thirst for violence. We can all go out there and refuse to fight, we can start this vote of confidence right now, all of us standing together against the environment Triple H's ego have forced us to participate in."

John turned around and looked at the rest of his team. Punk looked completely dismissive, Ryan always looked angry so he couldn't really tell what was on the guy's mind, Sheamus was glaring at Christian so he obviously wanted to go out to the ring and settle a few scores. It was Kofi and Evan that surprised him. They both looked like they were seriously considering what Otunga had to say. This mix of reactions didn't bode well for the performance of their team out in the ring. John decided to speak for the whole team.

"We were scheduled for a match and that's what we're going out there to do. The WWE Universe has had to suffer nothing but people talking out their asses all night long. I think they deserve to see at least a little wrestling tonight."

Punk went out first and John followed him right after, the rest of the team following. They waited on the ring apron as their opponents followed suit.

As the match went on John could sense that this match had the potential to go very wrong. The opposing team was working seamlessly while his team seemed to be in complete disarray. If they managed to win this match he would be surprised.

Somehow Sheamus managed to pin Ziggler and win the match for their team. They made their way back to the locker room and quickly showered. No one wanted to miss the vote of confidence that was coming up next. When they made their way back to the monitor bay everyone was in tightly formed groups in the midst of energetic discussions. He found Punk leaning against a wall all by himself.

"I know I've given off the impression that I'm more congenial now or whatever but no one makes decisions about my life except for me."

"Just you?"

"Yeah, just me. You just have the luxury of being someone whose opinion I actually take seriously."

The room started to clear out in groups, Smackdown and Raw wrestlers banding together. He saw the officials pass the monitor bay in a pack heading toward the ring entrance. Punk left the wall he was standing against and took one of the many empty seats. John followed him and sat down. Soon enough the only people left in the room were the guys that he considered his friends in the WWE.

He was getting ready to stand up and give one of his John Cena pep talks when the group started walking towards the ring entrance. John just watched them go wordlessly and took a seat next to a clearly agitated Punk. His knees were bouncing up and down and his hands were rolling together like he was getting ready for a match. He took his seat next to Punk and almost immediately Punk jumped up.

John pulled Punk back into his seat by the back of his shirt, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out to ringside, where else?"

"I thought you and Triple H had settled things between you."

"We're being civil to each other, but that doesn't change the fact that I think he's a horrible choice to run Raw."

"Do you really want to throw your lot in with Vickie, Otunga, and the rest of those guys?"

"Not in the slightest, but going out there doesn't mean I have to let them speak for me. I have my own voice and I'm going to use it."

"And who do you think is going to end up with the job if Triple H gets ousted. Do you want to go back to taking orders from a laptop, or maybe Vince could come back, or even worse put someone like Laurinaitis at the helm? Triple H is the devil we know, do you really want to gamble on the future of Raw falling into completely inept hands?"

"I hate to admit it but those were all valid points. You can let go of my shirt now, I'm not going to make a break for ringside."

Punk took a moment to look around at the people left at the monitor bay. Sheamus and Kelly Kelly were the only people left in the area. Then Punk saw Randy walk into the room. He took a seat next to John. Randy spoke up before he or John had the chance to ask him a question.

"Raw has descended into complete pandemonium but I'm not going out there so Christian can speak on my behalf. Just him being there is enough to tell me that ringside is not the place for me. If I have anything to say to Hunter I'll tell him to his face, not in front of the entire WWE Universe. I've never played well with others anyway."

Sheamus and Kelly walked over to the three of them.

"What can I say, I respect the man enough not to stab him in the back like a coward," Sheamus said obviously irritated by the situation.

Kelly spoke up, "The girls are all falling in behind Beth and Natalya. Those two being out there are enough for me to stay out of this."

They watched as the entire roster, officials, and Lawler voted 'no confidence' and then Lawler said he was walking out, the rest of the roster walking out behind him.

"That's it, I'm leaving, I don't want to deal with all those turncoats," and Sheamus walked away.

"I'm with him," and Kelly walked away also.

"I'm pretty sure that no one is going to confront either one of you and try to sway you to their side, but I have a feeling that it won't be the same for me. Let's get our stuff and head back to the hotel. I don't know about you two but I plan to not be in that hotel when the rest of the roster shows up. I'm going to be on the next flight to points unknown," John said seriously.

"I'm don't think you're going to get far trying to fly out of the Lafayette regional airport. We'd be better off renting a car and heading back to New Orleans," Punk said, thinking through their options as they were quickly walking back to the locker room to retrieve their things.

"Do you two mind if I ride with you? I'm just going to head home to St. Louis. Can you two at least promise me that you'll keep the PDA to a minimum?"

"I'll even sit in the backseat. I have a feeling if we tried to stuff your tall ass into the back I would be in for two and a half hours of getting the back of my seat kicked," Punk said accommodatingly.

"I was totally skeptical about your relationship from the moment I found out about you two but you've turned out to be less of an ass than I thought. That and there aren't very many people that can keep up with me in the ring."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I find it hilarious that these days the only way I get any respect from anyone is because I kicked their ass at some point."

"This is the WWE, physical confrontations is how we express ourselves," John said, the happiness creeping into his voice a little because his boyfriend and his best friend finally seemed to have come to terms with each other.

They grabbed their things quickly and walked out of the arena. They came upon a security guard standing in front of the back entrance.

"Do you have any guys up front by the main entrance?" John asked the guard.

"Yeah, we have some guys up front."

"Would you mind calling them and ask them to send a cab back here for us so we don't have to fight through the fans?"

"No problem, as long as I can get an autograph for my daughter."

"Sure," John said, bending down to get a photo from his bag.

"Oh, no offense or anything, but she would die if I brought her home a CM Punk autograph."

"Definitely, what's your daughter's name," Punk said, taking a picture out his bag and addressing it to the security guard's daughter.

While Punk was signing the security guard called one of his guys and a cab soon rolled up to the barricades surrounding the back of the arena.

They got in the cab, giving the driver the address to their hotel. As the cab started to make its way out of the maze that was the arena exits Randy started laughing hysterically.

"Uh, I think Randy's gone crazy," Punk said warily. Hilarity wasn't exactly an emotion the Apex Predator expressed.

"You should have seen your face John when the security guard said his daughter wanted a CM Punk autograph. If you don't watch out your fan base is going to jump on the Punk bandwagon."

The cab finally dropped them off at the hotel and the concierge told them that there was a car rental place a short walk away from the hotel. The place was closing in a few minutes so the concierge made a call and the rental place agreed to stay open until they got there after the concierge told the guy on the other end of the phone who he was staying open for.

The guy at the rental place greeted them cheerfully considering he was staying open for them and extending his work hours.

"My son is actually at the show right now. If he came back home to an autograph he will be so jealous his dad got to meet his favorite wrestler. Mr. Orton, if you wouldn't mind…"

"Of course I don't mind, what's your son's name?"

Once the three of them were in the car, Punk and Randy both started laughing riotously.

"Yeah, yeah, yuck it up, no one wants a John Cena autograph anymore it seems."

_AN: I know the updates are coming pretty quickly, sorry if I'm clogging up your inbox. I just want to thank you all for the reviews and hope you enjoy._


	6. Chapter 6

Punk's phone beeped and he took it out to read the text, "Its Melina, she said the guys talked to the road agents after they all walked out and the roster decided that as long as Triple H wasn't in the building they would honor their commitments for the house shows.

"So we're going to have to deal with them eventually."

"It's not a Supershow so I won't have to deal with them."

"Yeah, John, it looks like you're on your own. They already scheduled me for autograph signings the same days as the house shows. Why don't we hold up in New Orleans until we have to leave and fulfill our work obligations?"

"Is New Orleans really the place for the straight edge superstar? I would imagine that you're probably the only straight edge person in the city limits," John said, somewhat confused at Punk's request to spend a few days in a city known for its decadence.

"The city isn't just populated by bars. There's the food and the swamp and there's this place we can spend one night that's only two hours away."

"This place? That sounds vague and not promising in the slightest."

"When I went ghost hunting one of the guys told me about this place outside New Orleans called The Myrtles. It's this old plantation that is one of the most haunted places in America."

"No."

"Oh come on! It'll be awesome."

"I don't want to spend a night being scared out of my wits."

"Oh, are you afraid?"

"Fuck yes."

"Please, for me?"

"I really need to learn how to say no to you, but you are going to owe me big time. Even your diabolical mind won't be able to conceive what you're going to owe me."

"Can you two stop talking about your sexual blackmail. When I said no PDA I also should have included no talking about your sex lives either."

"We'll postpone this conversation until we're alone, I don't want to further scandalize Randy."

"Thank you Phil for being so respectful and not scarring me permanently."

John immediately looked at Punk in the rearview mirror. Punk looked a little surprised by Randy using his first name but it seemed that Punk wasn't going to correct Randy. Punk and Randy really seemed like they were burying the hatchet and John couldn't be happier. Randy clicked on the radio and they spent the rest of the ride in relative silence. They finally arrived in New Orleans and dropped Randy off at the airport. They left the rental at the airport and took a cab into the city.

"Are we staying at the same place we were at before?"

"No. I booked us into a different hotel." Punk gave the address to the cab driver. John was shocked when the hotel was located on Bourbon St.

"You're still straight edge aren't you? You do realize you booked us into a hotel on the most debauched street in America."

"Best thing about being straight edge, laughing at drunk people. We might as well do it like the tourists do and it's in the French Quarter. I want to check out the river and Jackson Square. There's also Café du Monde and I want to try out those beignet things, carbs liberally covered in powdered sugar, I can't explain how awesome that sounds."

They finally reached the French Quarter and the cab stopped on what appeared to be a residential street. "Cars aren't allowed on Bourbon St., just walk down the street and take a left. The Royal Sonesta is one block down." They checked into the hotel even though it was two in the morning.

"See, that's the first awesome thing about New Orleans, being able to check into a hotel in the middle of the night."

They took the elevator to the top floor and entered their room. They dropped their bags and Punk walked to the curtain covering a large part of the wall.

"This is the second awesome thing about New Orleans," Punk whipped the curtains open to reveal a balcony. Punk slid the glass door open and walked outside, John following him.

"It's still Monday right?" John asked with confusion.

"Actually it's Tuesday now, what about it?"

"It's Monday in the middle of the night and there are still a ton of people on the street? Wait, are those people just drinking in the middle of the street?"

"Yeah. There's no open container law in New Orleans. You can just take to the street with your beverage."

"Are you thinking of joining the tourism board, you seem to know a lot about the city."

"What do you think I was doing in the backseat for two hours while Randy listened to his horrible music?"

Punk sank down into a chair and put his feet up on a table. John took the other seat and they both relaxed, watching the crowd and listening to the mix of different music drifting out of the many bars on the street. They hung out companionably on the balcony until John started yawning every few minutes.

"You look like you're about to fall over. Let's go to sleep."

"I'd love to corrupt you in the most decadent place in America but after Raw and driving in the middle of the night I'd be afraid that I'd fall asleep trying to. I would never be able to live it down."

They walked back into the room and closed the door and curtain behind them. They stripped out of their clothes and crawled into bed together. John was fast asleep minutes later. There were still audible sounds from the street in the room Punk noticed but before long he was asleep too.

**October 4, 2011**

Both men were woken up by the ringing of John's phone. John leaned over to answer it and Punk looked at the clock, it was 11AM. Punk couldn't remember the last time he had the chance to sleep so late.

"I have a feeling I'm in for a lot of these calls today."

"Who was it?"

"Morrison. He wanted to know if I'd join them in their little rebellion."

"I'm not going to allow the entire WWE roster to ruin my mini-vacation. I know you won't turn it off, but could you put it on vibrate and let it go to voicemail?"

"I have no problem with that."

"Let's go get some breakfast."

"It's 11. That's more like lunchtime."

"We're on New Orleans time now. 11AM is still morning. Let's go try those beignet things."

They got directions from the concierge and made the walk to Café du Monde. They sat at a table and water was immediately set on their table by the waitress. We might need a few minutes."

"Not from around here, huh?"

"Is it obvious?"

"Well, there's only one thing on the menu and a very limited drink menu. How about I just bring you boys the house special."

"Sounds good."

The waitress returned a few minutes later with two orders of beignets and two cups of coffee, "Beignets and café au lait. Enjoy," and she set the bill on the table.

"Just looking at this and I feel a sugar rush coming on," John said warily.

"Oh shut up and eat your fried bread."

Punk took a bite and his eyes practically rolled back in his head, "This is heavenly, you've got to try this." Punk looked up at John who was practically turning red trying not to laugh.

"What?"

"Your face and clothes are absolutely covered in powdered sugar."

Both men tried to eat carefully but neither was very successful in trying to keep the sugar from getting everywhere. It took until the last couple of bites for Punk to figure out that if you didn't breathe while taking a bite the sugar didn't blow everywhere. They took napkins from the table and wet them with the water, trying to clean themselves off.

"I'm going to need two hours in the gym to work this off."

"This is New Orleans; I don't think there are gyms on every corner."

The river was right behind the café and they hung out on the pier for a while then walked down to the French Market where people were selling all types of different baubles and what not. They walked around Jackson Square which was mainly populated by horse drawn carriages, artists selling their work, and women giving tarot readings.

"I dare you to get a reading," John said looking over the strangely dressed women at their tables.

"Fine, you pick one."

John pointed out the strangest looking woman he could find. They walked over to the table and Punk sat down. John paid the woman and she looked at them steadily.

"First you need to ask a question. Most people say their love lives but from the looks of things I'd say you have that question already answered."

Punk looked to John to see if he had any ideas.

"Considering the state of our employment right now why don't you ask about your professional life."

"Good idea. That's my question, the state of my professional life."

"The way this works is that you pick three cards and lay them face down on the table. Each one either represents your past, present and future."

Punk picked the three cards and set them on the table. The woman flipped the first one over.

"In your past I see many troubles and hardships. You've been through quite an ordeal. In your present I see troubles continuing but you are much more content with yourself than you have been in the past. Finally, your future…I'm sorry to say that I see the arrival of an unwelcome visitor."

"Thank you." Punk got up from the table and he and John walked away. "Okay A, everyone's lives have hardships, B, she could probably sense my contentment with the smiley, good looking man hovering over my shoulder, and C, my life lately has been a succession of unwelcome visitors, one more isn't that much of a surprise. Let's eat again."

"It's 4:30, what are we senior citizens?"

"How about I make you a deal. We can go sit on those stairs over there and you can check the million voicemails you have. I've seen you grabbing your pocket constantly all day."

"Thanks."

Punk was people watching while John spent half an hour listening to his voicemails.

"Well?"

"Everyone and their mother called, wanting me to join their revolution. Who didn't call me…Triple H. He's not so stupid not to notice that I wasn't out there with the rest of the guys but the man doesn't bother to call me. That's pretty moronic."

"I have to agree with you there. My phone hasn't gone off all day and I'm not surprised in the slightest. Food now?"

They walked back to their hotel to get a recommendation from the concierge. He directed them to a place called Acme a couple of blocks down from their hotel. The hostess seated them and gave them their menus.

"Uh, there are a ton of things on this menu that I have no idea what they are."

"How about we just ask the waiter to recommend something."

"Can I take your drink order?"

"Do you have Pepsi?"

"Only Coke products sorry."

"Just water then."

"You want sugar and caffeine? How about I bring you a glass of the house wine of the south."

"I don't drink alcohol."

"It's not alcoholic; it's just what we call it down here. And you?"

"What kind of beer do you have?"

"We have some great local brews; I'll bring you my favorite. Anything for an appetizer?"

"I have to admit that we're from out of town and don't really know some of this stuff on the menu."

"I'll just bring you the house special, I'll be right back with your drinks."

They continued trying to decipher the menu when the waiter brought them their drinks.

"One sweet tea and one Purple Haze. Your appetizer will be right out."

Punk leaned down to take a sip of his drink and made an odd face.

"Oh my God, that is seriously sweet."

"Is it bad? I'm kind of hesitant to drink anything with the word purple in the name."

"It's not bad, it's awesome, I can actually feel my teeth rotting," and Punk took another sip. "Try yours."

John took a sip of his beer. "You should despair that you don't drink alcohol, this stuff is amazing."

Their waiter returned and laid a platter on the table, "Just slurp them down and you're going to need this," setting a bottle of Tabasco on the table.

"Are those rocks?" John asked suspiciously.

"I think they're oyster shells."

"They don't look cooked at all."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they're raw. When in Rome…" Punk took the bottle of Tabasco and sprinkled one of the oysters liberally. He took an oyster and knocked it back. Punk's eyes opened wide.

"Is it bad?"

"It feels kind of strange in my mouth, but it tastes pretty good. Word of advice, use less Tabasco, that stuff is hot."

John tried an oyster and he had to admit that while it looked highly questionable it tasted pretty good.

"You finished them all. A lot of the tourists usually leave the majority of them uneaten. Figure out what you want yet?"

"You haven't steered us wrong yet, how about we just leave the choice up to you."

"I know just the thing," he picked up the oysters but left the Tabasco.

"I'm going to steal that bottle when we leave, I'm going to start putting Tabasco on everything," Punk said excitedly.

They talked for a while about what was going on in the WWE and what they were going to do at the next Raw. Their waiter came back with two identical entrees.

"Shrimp Po-Boys, dressed."

"Dressed?"

"It means with everything." The waiter made a move to take the Tabasco but Punk hurriedly stopped his hand.

"Don't you dare take that away."

"Gotten a taste for the hot stuff, huh?"

"Definitely. Just so you know I'm planning on stealing that when we leave."

"What I don't see can't hurt me, but just so you know, you can get it on the internet."

They both dug into their giant po-boys. "The food here is so awesome, I don't want to leave," Punk said with a mouthful of food.

"Then let's not, we'll just hang here for a few days."

"You just want to get out of our field trip tomorrow; you're just going to have to let me have my way."

"Fine, but if anything weird happens and I can't sleep for days you're going to be awake right with me."

_AN: Some explanation for this chapter. I'm from New Orleans and I couldn't not have our boys knock around in my city. Some of the smaller details are fabricated for story reasons. As far as this haunted plantation storyline goes, it's not coming out of nowhere. Punk actually did go ghost hunting, on Halloween no less, on Ghost Hunters. I got it off his Wikipedia page and decided to incorporate it here._


	7. Chapter 7

**October 5, 2011**

"Why did you insist on driving and won't even let me handle the GPS?"

"Because I can't trust you not to purposely get us lost in some sparsely populated Louisiana town," Punk said suspiciously.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I know how much you don't want to go on this little side trip. You even tried to bribe me with sex this morning and then you hid all my shoes in the hotel safe."

"I am capable of scheming when the situation calls for it and this situation definitely calls for it."

"I think you are really overstating the situation."

"I'll repeat that sentence back to you when you're shoving a piece of furniture to block the door in the middle of the night."

John spent the majority of the ride checking voicemails and taking a select few calls from those he considered friends.

They finally arrived at their destination and John relaxed considerably. The plantation wasn't some falling down wreck. It was beautifully preserved and their room was equally beautiful. John couldn't even imagine some place like this being haunted by bloodthirsty ghosts.

After they settled in they took the tour with the rests of the guests. The tour guide told them the history of the house and they explored the common areas of the house and the grounds. John's relaxation was in direct conflict with Punk's irritation. He was obviously disappointed that it was like a normal bed and breakfast and not the house on haunted hill. The tour concluded in a grassy area in front of the plantation.

"Now is the part of the tour when I tell you about the supernatural history of the house."

A couple of people peeled off the group and headed back into the house. John made a move to follow them.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Back to the room, I'll meet you there when you're done."

"No way in hell, you're staying."

"Please let me go back to the room."

"It's just a couple of ghost stories; I think you'll survive just hearing them."

Punk became more and more elated hearing about the gruesome history of the house. John was as far away from elated as it was possible to be. He had forgiven Punk for running out on him twice. He wondered how long it would take Punk to forgive him if he stole the rental and abandoned Punk at his freaky plantation. Story time finally ended and everyone made their way back to the house for dinner.

After dinner they returned to their room. All through dinner John found himself becoming more and more agitated. When they were finally alone Punk pushed him down on the bed and started kissing him with clear intent.

"Phil, stop."

"I don't think you've ever told me to stop before."

"This may be slightly embarrassing but I'm extremely scared of this place. I couldn't get it up right now if you tried every method in the book."

"Let's see about that shall we."

Punk climbed on top of John and began kissing John again. John was slightly responding but no where near his usual enthusiasm. Punk unbuttoned John's jeans and slid his hand under John's underwear fondling him. After ten minutes Punk rolled off John clearly frustrated.

"Didn't I tell you that would happen?"

"I thought my powers of persuasion would be able to override your current emotional state. How about this, flip on your side."

John moved to his side and he felt Punk slide in behind him. Punk started running his hand soothingly up and down his back. John eventually started to relax and he eventually fell asleep.

John sat up straight in bed, something had awoken him. He listened harder and he could hear creaks and groans coming from the house. He immediately shook Punk awake.

"What?" Punk said still half asleep.

"Listen, do you hear that?"

"John, it's just the house settling. The house is over 200 years old; it's bound to make noises. Go back to sleep."

Punk fell back asleep almost immediately, but John was wide awake. He heard something that sounded like dragging coming from the hall outside the room. He shook Punk awake again.

"I just fell back asleep, what?"

"Listen."

Punk was silent and then his eyes widened. "Okay, I don't think that's the house settling."

"Can we leave?"

"No way, I came here to get a taste of the supernatural, no way are we leaving, I want to see what else happens."

John stole Punk's pillow and buried his head between the two pillows trying to ignore the sounds. After he had calmed down some he pulled the pillow away from the back of his head. Punk was sitting indian style at the foot of the bed. John reached out and laid a hand on Punk's back. Punk jumped so much that he toppled off the side of the bed.

"What was that all about? The place getting to you?" John said looking over the edge of the bed at Punk on the floor.

"There's just some really freaky noises. There are the sounds of footsteps that keep passing in front of the door. I get up and look in the hallway and no one's there."

"Can we leave now?"

"No way. I am going to wait this out."

"You do that," and John buried his head back in the pillows.

All of a sudden there was a loud bang. John sat up and the room door was wide open. Punk jumped up from the bed and looked in the hallway. It was empty. When he turned around John was pulling on his clothes and grabbing his suitcase.

"If you love me at all we are going to leave right now."

"I hate to chicken out but I'm in complete agreement."

They gathered their things and made their way downstairs. For it being a small bed and breakfast there was an attendant at the check-in desk in the middle of the night.

"We're checking out."

"This happens quite a bit. Actually, you're not the first to check out tonight."

They hurried to the rental.

"Keys," John said holding out his hand demandingly.

"I can drive; I think you're a little more shaken up than me."

"I'm driving. I don't care how many speeding tickets I get, we are getting back to New Orleans and we are getting there fast."

John drove like he was auditioning for Nascar. He parked on a side street near the hotel.

"Leave the luggage; we'll come back for it. I need a drink."

John dragged Punk down Bourbon St. and found a bar that seemed to be less crowded than the rest. John ordered a whiskey and Punk settled for a bottled water.

"I'm never taking any of your suggestions again. This was supposed to be a relaxing mini-vacation not some sort of torture session."

"As much as I want to stay here and watch you drown your fear in whiskey I have to go. It's one thing for us to be seen together, it's something else altogether for us to be seen together in a bar."

"After I finish my drink I'll grab our things and meet you upstairs."

John had finished his drink quickly so he could return to the room and exert the sexual blackmail he had threatened Punk with in exchange for his agreement to go on their totally ill-advised side trip.

He opened the door and Punk was sprawled out on the bed fast asleep. He had to be the only person that couldn't manage to get laid in the most debauched city in America.

**October 6, 2011**

John awoke to a weight pinning his hips down and a tickling sensation on his neck. He opened his eyes to see Punk perched on his hips.

"Aren't our flights out early today?

"They are but I woke us up early so that we could have a little fun before we go our separate ways. A little something for the road if you will."

Punk leaned down and started kissing John chastely; just soft presses of lips until he felt the metal of Punk's tongue ring trace the seam of his lips. John immediately opened his mouth and tilted his head to get the maximum effect. Punk began rolling his hips into John's.

"Not that I don't love this smooth seduction of yours but I have something else in mind right now. Consider it a down payment on what you owe me for dragging me to a place filled with malignant apparitions. Turn over on your stomach, get on your hands and knees."

John had never taken Punk this way before. His usual preference was being able to see Punk's face when he came, but today he was in the mood for something a little more forceful. Punk had turned over on his hands and knees and seemed to be waiting very impatiently for John to move. John positioned himself behind Punk and paused. While his favorite view was watching Punk come, he had to admit that the view from back here was pretty stellar as well.

He lined himself up and entered Punk in one powerful stroke, his hands grabbing Punk's hips with the intent to bruise. He began pulling Punk's hips toward his body in rhythm with his thrusts.

He looked down and watched himself sliding in and out of Punk. A fierce feeling of possessiveness passed over him. He picked up speed, needing Punk to know just how much John ached to own every part of him.

"God yes John, harder, please."

John reached down to jerk Punk off, using rapid strokes to get Punk as close to orgasm as he was. The thoughts swirling around in his head and the feeling of being inside Punk was too much to fight against.

A few quick thrusts and John was coming deep inside Punk. He rolled them over to their sides, still inside Punk. He reached around and kept jerking Punk off, needing him to come and knowing who exactly was the person giving him the pleasure that had Punk panting, sweating, and moaning John's name.

John lifted his arm, angling Punk's head to the side, and sunk his teeth into the tendon where neck meets shoulder.

"John, holy fuck," and Punk was coming in his hands, his body shaking in the aftermath.

John knew if he stayed much longer inside Punk he would get hard again, and since they both had flights to catch relatively soon he pulled out reluctantly. It wouldn't do to have a raging hard on when the only person he wanted in his bed was across the country.

"Shower?" Punk asked mischievously.

"Separate showers, we're both going to barely make our flights as it is."

Punk stood up to take his shower. While Punk was walking to the bathroom John could see his come running down the inside of Punk's thigh and the finger shaped bruises on his lower back.

John felt the wave of possessiveness wash over him again. It that moment he knew that he would never be able to let Punk go, even if the highly unlikely possibility occurred that he wanted to end things between them, he would never be able to walk away from Punk with his heart intact.

**October 9, 2011**

John was lying in his room aching from the beating he had taken at the last two house shows. Miz and Truth had apparently taken it upon themselves to follow the WWE around, crashing live events, particularly his matches with del Rio. They were focusing their anarchy mainly on him, with del Rio making a run for it both times and leaving him alone in the ring with his two ex co-workers. He would find himself lying prone in the ring while the two interlopers would grab mics and subject the audience to their complaints about Triple H. If Punk had been there Miz and Truth would have never even gotten their hands on a mic before they were victims of the GTS.

He missed Punk fiercely when they were separated but it was times like these when he could use someone to watch his back. Punk had a mind more attuned to nefarious plots than he did. His head was also spinning with the constant lobbying from the roster urging him to join them in their rebellion. They were apparently planning a solidarity rally outside Raw tomorrow night. A week ago there was no doubt in his mind that he would not be leaving Raw. After dealing with Miz and Truth the past two house shows he was beginning to be swayed to the other side.

His phone started ringing and he heaved his body over to the bedside table. It was Punk.

"I can't leave you alone for a minute can I?"

"Hello to you too."

"Seriously, what did you do before me? We're apart for two days and you're being constantly attacked by Miz and Truth."

"Where did you hear all this from?"

"The internet mostly. There's some theories out there that the roster left you out there to deal with Miz and Truth by yourself as some sort of punishment for not joining in on their walkout."

"They wouldn't do that."

"You are far too trusting for your own good. That's why you need my completely untrusting nature to balance you out."

"What are we going to do about Raw tomorrow? While you and I are capable of many things, a two hour match isn't one of them."

"Speak for yourself; I'm the best in the world."

"Yeah, you'd be the best in the world at lying practically unconscious in the ring right next to my lifeless body."


	8. Chapter 8

**October 10, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

John walked into the arena and the place was like a ghost town. On his way to the locker room he passed a door that had Triple H's name on it. He hesitated for a moment wondering if Randy's method of talking to Triple H privately was the way to go. He decided against it and continued on to the locker room. The WWE Universe needed to know that he wasn't going anywhere no matter how much some of them would appreciate his absence.

He walked into the locker room and the only person there was Punk. He was still dressed in his street clothes, staring at his gear that was on the bench beside him. Punk looked up and saw John entering the locker room. He jumped from his seat on the bench and launched himself at John kissing him furiously.

"Not…that I don't…appreciate the warm…welcome but…"

"You're not much of a boyfriend if you need an explanation every time I try to kiss you." Punk backed John against the locker room door, pressing his body to John's and continued kissing him breathless.

They continued to make out like teenagers until John felt the door try to open and heard an Irish accent, "What the hell?"

Punk hurried back to his locker and John opened the door to admit Sheamus. "Sorry, I was leaning against the door."

Sheamus looked at John and then looked at Punk. John detected a slight eye roll from Sheamus, "Uh huh, right."

The three men started dressing but as the time for Raw drew closer they realized that they were going to be the only people showing up tonight. They walked to the monitor bay and sat down, no doubt in their minds that Triple H would be going out to the ring to begin the show, hopefully with an explanation of what they were going to be doing over the next two hours with only four people in attendance.

The title signature started and the show began. Triple H must have found some camera men from somewhere. The camera panned around the ring, the regular ring techs missing along with the entirety of the commentary team. Triple H's music began and they walked as a group to the arena entrance, watching Triple H enter the ring on the monitor on the tech's desk.

Triple H began discussing the circumstances of the walk-out. All this was said with a tinge of frustration but it was mainly delivered with a large amount of derision.

"I don't care if I have to take off this suit, strip down to my tight whities, and get a broomstick in this ring. I'll wrestle a broomstick for two hours. Hell I've wrestled a lot of guys out there in that parking lot; the broomstick will give me a better match than most of them."

The three men waiting at the arena entrance all looked at each other, laughing their asses off. Punk turned around and began to walk away. John pulled him back by his shirt.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To get a broom stick. I really want to see Triple H vs. a cleaning implement."

John just gave Punk a look that conveyed that he needed to take the crazy down a notch.

"Fine, but I'm going to lobby to get that broom stick a match on the next pay-per-view. John, I think it's time you go out there and give one of your patented John Cena pep talks." John's music cued up and he walked into the arena.

"You seemed eager to get rid of him," Sheamus directed at Punk.

"Yeah, I'm having second thoughts about this whole situation. I need John out of the way in case I plan to walk away."

John began his speech, calling Triple H on the carpet for not even making an effort to contact him over the past week. He then ran down the list of completely inept Raw GM's that had preceded Triple H. John affirmed to the fans that there was no way that he was leaving Raw. Mr. 'Hustle, Loyalty, Respect' was definitely in attendance tonight.

Punk looked at Sheamus, "Why don't you go out there next."

"Did you just hear what Cena said? Sure Triple H isn't perfect but that list of previous GM's of Raw is enough to scare my arse onto the arena ramp. Hope to see you out there," and Sheamus walked out into the arena.

Sheamus' argument was that he respected Triple H. His speech was coming dangerously close to ass kissing but Punk had to admit that anyone using the word shenanigans in a sentence got a temporary pass from his mockery.

Punk sucked it up and had his music cued up. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say out there but he couldn't let this conversation go on without injecting a little reality into the mix.

He stepped into the arena and was greeted with utter confusion followed by raucous applause. He had no doubt that he was the last person the audience expected to show up.

He started out by apologizing for starting this whole mess. He was the one that made walking out look cool when he had absconded with the title. He had no contract or handshake agreement with anyone. His contract expired and he elected to leave the WWE. He couldn't help but deliver a dig to John by calling him a boy scout. John busted out laughing. He asked the question that no one in that ring had thought to bring up yet. Just what the hell were they going to do with the current roster of the WWE being only four guys?

Triple H arranged a match between John and Sheamus, elected himself the referee and set Punk loose on commentary, even allowing Punk use of his blazer. He was asked to ring the bell. Punk walked up to the bell and suddenly realized that, even after years of being in the business, he didn't know how many times to ring the bell. It was pretty embarrassing. He took his place at commentary and the match began. Punk was having fun until music filled the arena, music that Punk hoped never to hear again in his tenure in the WWE. Vince McMahon had returned.

He entered the ring and asked to speak with Triple H personally. Punk was extremely surprised when Vince included him in the thank you's Vince handed out for staying true to the WWE. He, John and Sheamus left ringside and returned back to the monitor bay to watch the conversation between Vince and Triple H.

It appeared that Vince was there to do what Triple H had done to him all those months ago; Triple H was being relieved of his duties running Raw. Vince stated that they were looking for a new GM of Raw but in the interim the board had appointed John Laurinaitis to run Raw and then man himself walked out into the arena. Triple H looked like he wanted to strangle someone.

Punk's head dropped into his hands, this must be what hell feels like. He was so completely screwed. He looked to John and he just shrugged his shoulders. John had predicted this possible outcome prior to the vote of confidence. It had been the sticking point of his argument that prevented Punk from joining the walkout.

Punk, John and Sheamus watched as the roster filed in past them and headed to the locker room to change into their gear. There were quite a few malicious glances thrown their way. After all, they were the only three wrestlers that had crossed the picket line.

During Christian and Morrison's match a road agent walked up to the three men. Both John and Sheamus were done for the night but Punk was scheduled for a main event against del Rio. He had no doubt this was Laurinaitis' ego at work. He was pretty sure that of all the workers that Laurinaitis was in charge of now, he was the one Laurinaitis hated most.

John was not left ignored. Laurinaitis returned to the ring to announce John vs. del Rio for the Championship as the main event at Vengeance. Punk realized with that announcement that he was probably never going to find his way back into the Championship picture with Laurinaitis at the helm.

It was finally time for his match against del Rio. He made his way to the arena entrance but was halted while del Rio made his pretentious entrance into the arena. Punk made his way to the ring to face del Rio.

The match went back and forth until Laurinaitis called a halt to the match. He changed the match making him and del Rio tag team partners. Punk awaited Laurinaitis to announce their opponents with dread.

Laurinaitis had reinstated Miz and Truth. He had no doubt that Laurinaitis had set up this match to punish him personally. He doubted del Rio would have much to do with the actual match besides just standing in the corner looking smug.

Del Rio actually put a little effort into the match, after all Truth and Miz had attacked del Rio as much as they had attacked him at Hell in a Cell.

Del Rio eventually showed his true colors, abandoning Punk in the ring with a, no doubt, fake injury. Punk tried to take them both on but it wasn't long before they were double teaming him constantly. He eventually got the upper hand and set up Miz for the GTS but Truth intervened and Punk found himself being attacked by both men without an official to impede the beatdown.

He knew something was happening when he heard the crowd start to go wild. He rolled to his side and saw Triple H, of all people, attacking Miz and Truth. Punk recovered and they both eventually chased Miz and Truth out the ring and back up the ramp. After playing to the crowd he and Triple H eventually made their way back up the ramp into the backstage area, standing at the entrance was John and he looked like whatever he was about to convey was going to get him hit.

"Laurinaitis just scheduled a match for Vengeance, you two against Miz and Truth. Punk looked at Triple H and they shared a look of shock. Of the entire roster, they were the last two people that needed to be teaming up. Both men just shook their heads and walked away in different directions.

John and Punk walked towards the locker room when Punk stopped a few doors before the locker room.

"I came down wrong on my shoulder during the match. I'm going to get the trainer to massage it out. Why don't you go back to the hotel, I have no idea how long this is going to take."

"If you say so. I'll see you in a few."

Punk was occupied with the trainer for half an hour before he was released feeling better but still a little stiff.

He walked to the locker room. There was one set of luggage besides his that was still left in the room. Punk took a shower and changed into his street clothes.

He packed up his gear, swinging his bag over his shoulder and walked towards the door. It opened before he was halfway out the room, Christian walked in, having a heated conversation on his cell phone.

"Adam, I'm not supposed to talk to him, you remember, you set it up that way. I don't want to be the one to tell him, he's going to kick my head off my shoulders," Christian looked up and saw Punk still in the locker room. His face fell, knowing that Punk had heard the entire conversation that he had been having with Adam.

Punk waited for Christian to end his call, staring a hole in his head until Christian hung up the phone.

"I know I'm not supposed to go near you, so I'll just be on my way."

"You're staying right where you are. That conversation was clearly about me and something you didn't want to tell me, so we're going to stay in this room until you fess up."

"Please don't make me tell you this in person. How about we return to the hotel and I'll text it to you."

"You really don't want to tell me this personally, that can only mean it's something horrible which is not surprising considering my luck these days. Out with it Christian."

"Let me start by saying that I know about you and John but I promise I haven't told anyone."

"And how did you come by this knowledge? Let me guess, Adam? Boy did he turn out to be untrustworthy."

"Adam is very trustworthy but he also can't keep a secret from me if his life depended on it. I would never out you two, I know what it's like to be in a relationship and have to hide it from everyone. There have always been rumors about me and Adam and they just happened to be true."

"If you and Adam are together what the hell was all that with me?"

"Adam had broken up with me. He didn't want to tie me down when he was no longer going to be with the WWE. I was so upset and I wanted to make Adam feel as bad as I did. I tried to use you as my rebound and things got totally out of hand."

"And why did you choose me to be your rebound?"

"Well, we were already friends and have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror. I'm sure there are a lot of other guys on the roster that were planning to try and land you after your promo when you became marginally more approachable. I really want to apologize about the way I acted. I was upset and desperate. That was a rhetorical apology by the way. I don't think I really want to hear your response to that."

"So are you and Adam back together?"

"Yeah. He was really pissed for a while after he found out what I did to you, but I guess the anger was overruled by jealousy. I should probably thank Cena for getting us back together."

"Okay, now that we've gotten that cleared up, let's get back to the main subject here. What were you and Adam saying about me?"

"Adam had called right before the show ended and I found a quiet hallway to talk. When I was walking out the hallway I saw Laurinaitis walking out of his office with a former co-worker of ours. They shook hands and I heard Laurinaitis welcome him back to the WWE."

"And who exactly is coming back?"

"It looks like one of John's scorned ex's is back in the WWE."

_AN: I know, cliffhangers are evil. I'm working on the next chapter now so it'll probably be out tomorrow so you won't have to wait that long. I apologize beforehand in turning, probably at least one of my reader's favorite wrestler into a villain. John needed an ex and he was the best choice._


	9. Chapter 9

Punk felt himself go numb all over. He knew of the existence of John's ex's but they were like a nebulous idea, out of sight, out of mind, but it appeared that he was going to have to face the topic head on.

"Who?"

Christian just mumbled something incoherently.

"Christian, just tell me."

"It was Jeff Hardy."

"What! Do you know…"

"I don't know any of the details. Edge somehow figured out they were together. One day they were together and then a couple of months later Jeff left the WWE."

"Damn right he left; I was the one that showed him the door."

"It looks like Laurinaitis is letting him come back in through the out door."

"Thanks for warning me Christian, even though you really didn't want to."

"I probably would have anyway. Jeff is…"

"I know what Jeff is like. It wasn't some spur of the moment decision to cash in on him at Extreme Rules. The second the match was set I knew what I was going to do. If Edge had won I wouldn't have cashed in. I'm just stunned. I mean John and Jeff? I couldn't imagine two people more dissimilar, it you're not counting me and John."

"What are you going to do?"

"Figure out some way to confront John about it without giving away who told me?"

"Thank you for that."

"Just because I have marginally forgiven you doesn't mean that John ever will. If he found out I had gotten the information from you who knows what he would do. Okay, I have to go back to my hotel room and initiate what is going to be a horrific conversation, want to catch a cab back to the hotel."

"Sorry, but no. I don't even want to be seen with you in case John finds out about it. I really don't want to add another John Cena beat down to my day."

Punk caught a cab back to the hotel but he couldn't shake the distress that had overtaken his mind. He couldn't imagine how the John he knew would want anything to do with Jeff Hardy.

Punk arrived at his hotel and took the elevator up to his and John's room. He slid his keycard in, pushed open the door, and walked into his worst nightmare. There, with his arms wrapped around his boyfriend, was Jeff Hardy. Punk just stood there in shock.

"I was just telling John that you wouldn't mind if we switched rooms. John and I have a lot of catching up to do and I thought you would probably appreciate having your own space again."

"I'll leave that up to John. I was just dropping off my luggage. Text me and let me know where I'll be staying," Punk couldn't even look at John; all he could see was Hardy. He turned on his heel and walked right back out the door. Punk could feel the tears forming in his eyes; he needed to get out of there fast. He took the elevator back down and walked toward the hotel exit. He turned his head to the side where the bar was located and he could see Randy there. If anyone could give him the whole story it was Randy. He just didn't know what kind of mood Randy would be in after getting bagged by Rhodes that night.

Punk walked into the bar and took a seat beside Randy.

"I'm warning you Phil. I am so not in the mood for your sarcastic quips."

"Good because neither am I."

"I know why I'm here, but what in the hell are you doing in the bar of all places?"

"My room was occupied by Jeff Hardy."

Randy started choking on the sip he had taken of his drink. Punk patted him on the back a couple of times until Randy was recovered.

"Say that again."

"Jeff Hardy was in my hotel room, with his arms wrapped around John no less."

"I don't care what kind of sexual perversions you need to sink to; you need to get John as far away from Hardy as possible."

"That's gonna prove impossible if John keeps inviting him into our hotel room."

"Do you have any idea what Hardy is even doing here?"

"Yeah, someone overheard Laurinaitis welcoming Hardy back to the WWE."

"Usually I would just turn you around and tell you to confront John yourself, but you need all the information if you're going to have to deal with that toxic asshole Hardy."

"How did they even get together?"

"Hardy had hit on John a couple times but John had always turned him down flat, he knew what kind of reputation Hardy had. John was the WWE's squeaky clean Champion and Hardy was anything but. Then came the Elimination Chamber. John walked in Champion and walked out with nothing, Edge winning the Championship even though he had basically stolen a spot to get into the match. John left the arena really upset that night. I'm not sure how it happened but they ended up spending the night together."

Punk's phone started ringing and he took it out his pocket looking at the screen. He gripped the phone in his hand before canceling the call.

"John?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you answer?"

"Maybe he wants to tell me that he moved my luggage into another room. Finish what you were saying."

"It seemed really casual at first but before long they were sharing a room and were together all the time. Hardy had John out at the bars every night. John started taking bigger and bigger physical risks while fighting over the title with Edge. At one point John ended up having to be carried out on a stretcher. John started drinking like a fish and staying out all hours of the night. He barely made it to the gym and started showing up late to events. If John would have been some mid-card jobber they would have showed him the door, but he was John Cena and they just let it go, I couldn't. I sat John down and tried to convince him that Hardy was destroying him and if he kept letting Hardy influence him he would end up with a ruined career. John wouldn't listen and we fought. We ended up not speaking for over half a year. I don't know what happened after that. One day they were attached at the hip and the next they were avoiding each other like the plague. Eventually Hardy lost that match to you and left the WWE."

Punk's phone started ringing again, he canceled the call immediately.

"Thanks for telling me everything Randy. I know you don't like to get wrapped up in things like this."

Punk walked into the lobby and just stopped. He couldn't bear to go back to their room and find Hardy still there. Even if Hardy was gone he would never be able to get the image of Hardy with his arms wrapped around John out of his head knowing the things he knew now. His luggage was still in that room, he would have to go up there eventually but he couldn't handle it just now.

Punk dropped down onto a sofa and just stared into space. His chest began to feel tight, it felt impossible to breathe and spots started to dance in front of his eyes. He was extremely frightened and then he felt himself being hauled to his feet and guided out the front door to a bench behind a wall of ivy.

"Put your head between your knees, I think you're having a panic attack."

Punk did as the voice told and after a few minutes he began to recover from one of the scariest moments of his life. He looked to his side to see his rescuer, it was Triple H.

"What the hell is going on here? Why are you hanging around the lobby and not in your love nest that the WWE pays for?"

"Do you really want an explanation? I don't think you're the type to sit around and listen to other people's problems."

"As of tonight you're my new tag team partner and if we're going to work together I need to know that your head is in the game. As evidenced by your breakdown in the lobby I think you're probably not in the right headspace to care about, much less win, a match."

"Laurinaitis has hired back another former employee."

"Damn, the guy's Interim GM of Raw for a couple of hours and he has already made two horrible hiring choices, I don't know if the new addition could be any worse."

"It's Jeff Hardy."

"Stop fucking with me."

"It's true. Someone saw Laurinaitis welcoming him back to the WWE, and on a personal note, I found him all over John in our hotel room."

"Vince is going to flip out. No one was particularly sad to see that drug addled spot monkey leave. He jumped to TNA the minute his no compete clause was over and only lasted there six months before his drug problems got out of hand and they had to fire him. I hope Laurinaitis didn't shake the same hand that Hardy used for his drug screen."

"So you see why I'm falling apart. Laurinaitis has made us the most unlikely of tag teams against Miz and Truth who should have remained fired and who have ambushed me countless times. Then he hires Hardy who is my professional nemesis and now Hardy has destroyed my relationship in the couple of hours he's been re-hired. On top of that, all my stuff is in my hotel room which I am too upset to return to. Wait…I know how to get my stuff."

Punk took out his cell phone and dialed, "Melina, I need a huge favor."

"Sure, anything for you Punk."

"Come meet me outside the entrance to the hotel so you can get my room key. I need you to go to room 672 and get my stuff. Bring it to your room and I'll pick it up tomorrow morning."

"Can I at least ask what's going on?"

"I'll tell you everything tomorrow. What time are you checking out?"

"10:30."

"That works out perfectly. Thank you for doing this for me."

"No problem."

Punk hung up his phone and waited for Melina who came straight down and took the key without question.

"So your things are taken care of. I don't think you can stay on this bench until tomorrow."

"I was going to get another room."

"I'm probably going to regret this but I have a suite, you can stay in the other bedroom."

"Thank you. Maybe there's hope for this tag team after all."

"You can't hide out forever. There are house shows and Raw to think about."

"I'm not booked for the Mexico house show. They scheduled me for a bunch of appearances and autograph signings. John is scheduled for some signings too before he has to be in Mexico for the house show. His flight leaves at eight; my flight doesn't leave until noon."

"Come on; let's go up to the room. I'm not great at this emotional stuff. If you were anybody else I would offer you a very large alcoholic beverage and send you to pass out in your room. This straight edge stuff doesn't really allow for emotional crises does it? Here's my room. The bedroom is through there and the bathroom is across the hall. If you decide to go on a crying jag, try to keep it down."

Punk kicked off his shoes and laid down fully clothed on top of the covers. It was pointless to try to even pretend like he was going to sleep. Punk spent the night torturing himself with scenarios of what might be going on in his former hotel room. He tried to convince himself that the hug might only be friendly but Hardy's parting words haunted him. His and John's hotel room was the only place they had where they could be together without any worry about what the world outside their room might think. He had invited Hardy into their private space and god knows what kind of physical contact John might have allowed. John had told him many times that he loved him more than he had ever loved anyone else but that love didn't seem to stop John from being more than friendly with the person he almost hated more than anyone on the planet.

Time passed slowly until the clock finally hit 9:30AM. He went to Melina's room to retrieve his things so he could take a shower and change before he had to leave for the airport. Melina handed over Punk's bag.

"Did you have any trouble?"

"No. John wasn't even in the room when I went to get your stuff. Were you expecting something to happen?"

"Right now I can only say that I'm relieved that there was no one in the room at all. You could have walked in on John entertaining a man that was most certainly not me."

"John's cheating? That can't be true. I've seen the way he looks at you, there's no way he would stray."

"Yeah he wouldn't stray because he didn't have any other options. One of his ex's has appeared from out of the blue and John was definitely in the arms of a man that was not me."

"Who?"

"Jeff Hardy."

"You have to be kidding me. I can't even imagine John dating someone like him."

"Well he did and now Hardy is back. I'm probably on my way to becoming one of John's ex's."

"So you didn't break up?"

"No, I haven't even spoken to him."

"Then how do you know it all wasn't some big mistake."

"Right now all I know is what I saw when I walked in that room and that was enough."

"Don't you think you should at least talk to John? If he's going to replace you with Hardy he at least needs to be a man about it and tell you to your face, not run around with Hardy behind your back. Doesn't John realize how much you hate Hardy?"

"He knows, maybe he just doesn't care."

"Has he tried to contact you?"

"He called a few times but I canceled the calls before they could go to voicemail. Right now I can't even stand to hear the sound of his voice. If he's calling to apologize for putting himself in that position than he doesn't really care about what I think at all, letting Hardy get that close to him, and if he's calling to break up with me, I don't really want to hear that either. I have to catch my flight. I'll see you at Raw. I might need a bodyguard to stop me from pulling all Hardy's rainbow colored hair out."

**October 15, 2011**

Punk dreaded getting on the flight that would take him to Mexico City. He was barely sleeping these days. In the middle of the night he found himself at a pharmacy and stared at a box of Unisom for thirty minutes before walking out the door empty handed.

He finally boarded the plane and spent the long flight just staring out the window and wishing he was going anywhere but Mexico City. The flight finally ended and Punk took a cab to the hotel. He had called the WWE travel department to request a single room. The department usually grouped all the wrestlers together on one floor, but Punk's last minute request meant that he was in a room far away from his co-worker's.

Punk spent the night forcing himself to eat the room service he ordered and watched random TV except for the three hours of sleep he managed to get. He wasn't going to step foot out of his room until it was time to go to the arena.

_AN: Boy did I swerve you guys. I was getting a little bored with writing commentary on Raw without anything exciting happening. And when I say exciting I mean events that cause severe emotional drama between our boys. So I strayed from my usual formula, they'll just be some matches that I make up, but who needs wrestling matches when they'll be so much drama. As far as Jeff goes, his real life will be ignored by me. Only details given about what went on during his hiatus from the WWE will be considered part of the story. I wrote two versions of this chapter. The happy fun one and the oh holy hell one. You got the second. Thank you for the lovely reviews and I hope they don't decrease rapidly by turning Jeff Hardy an antagonist._


	10. Chapter 10

**October 16, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

Since they weren't airing live from Mexico City they were taping the show on Sunday so that it could air on Monday in America. Punk was dreading having to return to work. Punk walked into the backstage area at the arena. He didn't even bother finding a road agent to ask what he was scheduled for. He felt sorry for whoever he ended up in the ring with. While he was depressed as hell about the situation with John he also felt the need to kick some serious ass.

Punk walked into the locker room and the first thing he saw was John staring at him from across the room. Punk stepped forward towards John but then Punk looked to John's right. Hardy was dressing in front of the locker next to John's. Punk turned his back on both of them and took an empty locker on the opposing row so he didn't have to look at them.

Punk dressed quickly and made his way to the monitor bay to finally find a road agent, only to discover that he hadn't been scheduled for a match that night. He had to haul his extremely reluctant ass to Mexico and he was going to be forced to sit on the sidelines. He turned on his heel to walk back to the locker room, change, and try to get the first flight back home to Chicago when his arms were grabbed on both sides. Melina had one arm and Triple H had the other.

"Where do you think you're going? Triple H asked while guiding Punk to a seat.

"Laurinaitis didn't even schedule me for a match. I wish I would have known that before I flew all the way out here."

"They make me come to Raw even though I'm barely in front of the camera these days," Melina said with clear irritation.

"This is the WWE. Just because you're not scheduled for a match doesn't mean we can't raise a little hell. Let's turn the tables on Miz and Truth and see how much they like it."

Triple H and Melina sat with Punk between them. Punk felt like he was being babysat by the two most unlikely people ever. He was staring at the monitors, praying for the show to start soon so the time he would get to leave was that much closer. He heard other people entering the room but he kept his gaze fixed so he didn't have to see anything that would make him physically ill. His eyes were starting to glaze over from staring without blinking for so long. Someone stepped in front of him and he blinked to remove the haziness.

"Phil, please…"

"Don't Phil him. Walk away Cena."

"I need to talk to Phil and who are you to tell me to walk away from him!"

"I'm his tag team partner, and from what I've heard and seen it doesn't seem like you're anything to Punk anymore. Just go back to your boy toy."

Punk couldn't help but watch as John walked away, he didn't just walk away from Punk to another area of the room but left the monitor bay completely. Still looking in the direction John left he saw Hardy, dressed for competition, walk past the bay in the direction of the arena entrance.

"John told me to tell you that he would get in a couple of hits for you. Apparently Laurinaitis is trying to sacrifice him on the altar of Hardy," Melina said contemptuously.

John came out first but when Hardy's music rang through the arena the crowd went wild. Punk just felt like throwing up. They had a good match, both men showing off their more acrobatic style of wrestling, but unfortunately, Hardy came out the victor.

Punk was seething. He looked behind him only to see that John had re-entered the room and was in a heated conversation with Randy. He saw Hardy walking towards John and Randy. All he could see was red. Maybe Phil could spend his days depressed and barely eating and sleeping over the loss of John, but CM Punk didn't put up with this shit.

Punk flew out of his seat and speared Hardy so hard that they both went flying back into the hallway. Punk jammed his knee into Hardy's side making sure to put pressure on his kidney. He started throwing punches left and right, finding that once he started hitting Hardy he didn't want to stop until the man was unconscious. He felt several hands trying to pull him off Hardy but he struggled against them and managed to hit him a few more times before they had him pushed against the wall.

Punk looked up into the smiling face of John Laurinaitis, "Punk, my office, now!"

The security guards led him to Laurinaitis' office and Punk sat down with a smile on his face. He didn't care how much trouble he was going to get into, that had felt way too good.

"Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would. I was sure that you would have decked him in the locker room the first time you saw him," Laurinaitis said smugly.

"I already knew you had re-signed him. You really should be more careful of having your conversations out in the open."

"At least you managed to restrain yourself until after his big re-debut."

"My mistake, I should have beat the shit out of him last week when I saw him. I have no idea why I waited this long. If you don't schedule me for a match then I'll just have to make my own fun."

"You want a match do you? How about you take on Miz tonight?"

"Fine with me. I don't care if Miz comes out with an entire marching band; he's getting his ass handed to him in the ring tonight."

"Someone one woke up this morning feeling cocky."

"Not at all, but just the sight of Hardy makes my blood boil, but I'm pretty sure you already knew that, that's why you hired him after all isn't it?"

"My hiring practices are of no concern to you. You better get ready; you're on after the girls. You better get used to the mid-card because you won't be seeing a main event for a long time."

"You can keep your gaudy belt; I rather just kick Miz's teeth down his throat."

"Good luck with that, now get the hell out of my office."

Punk stepped back into the hallway and Triple H was outside waiting for him.

"Are you suspended again?"

"No, just scheduled for a match against Miz. I'm glad; I could stand a little violence about now."

"You do realize that where Miz goes Truth follows."

"Isn't it lucky that I have such a bloodthirsty tag team partner?"

"That you do."

"I don't need you to come out like a valet or anything but if Truth accompanies him, feel free to crash the party."

"Compare me to a valet again and I'm going to Pedigree you on something hard, like a concrete parking barrier. God, I don't know how anyone stomachs you over a long period of time. Thank god Vengeance is a week away. Hopefully we can walk away with a win and then I'll never have to look at your pointy face again."

"And stay away from you, I couldn't bear the separation."

"After we win the match pick a guy, any guy on the roster, and I'll hit them with a sledgehammer until they agree to be your boyfriend, anything to get you away from me. The girls won't be out there for long, let's just go wait by the ring entrance and feel free not to speak. One more word and I'll leave you out there to get double-teamed constantly."

The girls finished up and Punk's music played through the arena. He stepped out onto the ramp and the crowd went wild. The volume of the cheering was much louder than it had been for Hardy. Punk couldn't help but gloat a little.

Miz predictably came out with Truth in tow. Punk took a seat indian style in the middle of the ring, rolling his eyes and yawning with great exaggeration. They tried to get a rise out of him by taking a page from his book and mocking him but Punk could only smile. If they knew what was in store for them they would cue up their remix again and just go back the way they came.

Unfortunately for them the way they came was currently occupied as Triple H's music played through the arena. Did they really think he was going to walk into this match without backup?

The match started and Punk was relentless, eventually causing Miz to evacuate the ring. Punk didn't like that and came flying through the ropes, crashing Miz into the front of the announce table and Punk threw the stunned Miz back into the ring. Punk resumed kicking Miz's ass all over the ring.

Of course that couldn't last and the first time the official's eyes were averted for a second, Miz and Truth took the opportunity to double team him. Triple H jumped in the ring but that only served to distract the official more. Triple H realized he was hindering more than helping and left the ring. By the time the official turned back around Truth was on the other side of the ring.

The match continued and Punk knew he was in trouble when Miz tossed him to the outside. He stood up and saw Miz distracting the official, before he knew what was happening he felt himself hit in the back of the head. He went down but he could hear Triple H running to offer the assist.

Punk was recovering from the hit when he heard Laurinaitis' raspy voice ordering for the match to stop. Laurinaitis was going on and on, something about Triple H's immigration papers? Punk immediately realized that this was all a ruse so he could be left at the mercy of Miz and Truth with no backup.

Punk went full force on Miz in the ring. As long as the action didn't spill outside of the ring and the official kept his eyes on the match it would prevent Truth from interfering. Punk hit a high elbow off the top rope and called for the GTS. Before he could set Miz up Truth jumped on the ring apron. Miz tried to attack him from behind but Punk stepped aside letting Miz's momentum send him crashing into Truth. Punk rolled Miz up and picked up the win.

There wasn't much time to celebrate as Truth jumped in the ring and started to hit him. Eventually Miz got in on the action and they started to beat him down. Additional officials made their way to the ring but Miz and Truth still found an opportunity to each perform their finishing maneuvers on him. As he recovered in the ring, he hoped this wasn't a preview of what Vengeance would be like, but under Laurinaitis' leadership he really couldn't expect much.

Punk eventually made his way backstage and on his way past the monitor bay he saw Randy sitting between John and Hardy. None of them looked very happy. Hardy noticed Punk watching and smirked at Punk like he was the one who had just beaten Punk down in the ring. Punk just smirked back; after all, he wasn't the one holding a bag of ice to his cheek.

Punk continued on to the locker room which was empty. Punk sat down and began to untape his wrists. His wraps were stained orange. Miz really needed to lay off the spray tan. Punk stripped off his gear, grabbed a towel, and made his way to the last shower stall to wash away the sweat and Miz's horrible spray tan.

Punk was relaxing his muscles under the spray when two arms came around him like a vise. Punk struggled and when he felt the person bury their face in his neck he began struggling more. Of course John would follow him in here, Triple H was gone and Melina couldn't accompany him into the men's locker room.

Punk struggled free of John's arms and turned around, backing into the shower wall so John couldn't pin him down again. John just followed him further into the shower soaking his clothes.

"Are you out of your mind! You can't just bust in on someone while they're in the shower. Anyone could walk in!"

"I locked the door."

"Even better, barricade yourself in the locker room with me."

Punk moved to step around John but he wouldn't let him pass. John tried to wrap his arms around him again but Punk stealthily sidestepped him and walked back into the locker room, pulling on his street clothes, not even bothering to dry off.

"Phil, please…"

"Don't you even dare! You lost the right to call me that. And what makes you even think you can touch me after doing god knows what with Jeff Hardy!"

"Phil, please, listen to me, nothing happened!"

"I don't define what I walked in on as nothing. You and I are through. I hope you and your Jeff are very happy together," Punk replied nastily.

Punk started to pack his gear when he heard John start to sniffle and his breath hitching. Was John crying? Punk's resolve started to weaken and he reached out a hand to touch John's shoulder. His movement halted when someone tried to open the door and then started banging on the locked door.

"John, are you in there?"

Punk would recognize that drawl anywhere. He unlocked the door and Hardy came stumbling in, Randy hot on his heels. Both men were shocked at the state John was in.

"I don't care what Laurinaitis does to me, I am so out of here." Punk turned to Hardy as he was walking out, "He's all yours. Lovely bruise by the way," and Punk walked out of the locker room. He stopped when he heard Randy yell.

"Phil, wait, I'm coming with you."

Punk waited impatiently as Randy grabbed his gear and then they walked out of the arena, catching a cab back to the hotel.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure."

"I'll meet you in your room. I just need to raid my mini-bar first. I would raid yours but I don't think the WWE would want charges for mini bottles of vodka on the bill of their straight edge superstar."

"I'm in room 820."

Punk went up to his room, changing out of his damp clothes. He answered the knock on his door and let Randy in.

"Well, John's not speaking to me now."

"What did you do?"

"I laid into him about fucking up the best thing in his life over Jeff Hardy. Obviously, I wouldn't know about that unless I heard it from you. He started questioning me about what you had said and I straight up told him that I wasn't going to play telephone for him and that I told you all about his and Hardy's past relationship. He was not very pleased."

"Then what were you doing sitting between them earlier tonight?"

"It was my attempt to save John from himself but he's a big boy, if he wants to screw his fucking life up that's all on him. What exactly did you do to him in that locker room anyway? He was soaking wet and the look on his face…"

"He busted in on me while I was in the shower."

"Fully clothed? That seems pretty desperate. You must have said something to him; he looked like someone had just died."

"I broke it off with him. He and Hardy deserve each other."

"I'm not denying what you saw, but are you sure it means what you think it does? Jeff Hardy is capable of almost anything you know and I've never seen John look so destroyed."

Punk didn't respond to Randy's question, he just walked to the window and stared out into the night unseeing. He was heartbroken and his career was in shambles. Maybe he should have never returned to the WWE, maybe he should have just walked away from the company and everyone in it.


	11. Chapter 11

**October 22, 2011**

Punk had basically sequestered himself in his apartment in Chicago after leaving Mexico. He certainly had enough time on his hands. Laurinaitis had canceled his appearance at the house show a few days before Vengeance. He had also let Punk know that he wouldn't be needed at the fan events that preceded the pay-per-view.

Punk felt like he was slowly being driven insane. It wasn't the self-imposed solitude or Laurinaitis' attempt to ruin his career but it was Randy's words after Raw. He hadn't given John the chance to explain what he had seen, even when John had gone to such desperate means to speak to him.

Punk was just so angry, angry at himself, angry with Hardy and angry at John. When he walked into the hotel room that night he should have rushed Hardy and beat him bloody. The only excuse for his inaction was the fact that it was specifically Jeff Hardy that had his hands wrapped around John. If it had been anyone else in that room with John he probably would have reacted much differently.

The destruction of their relationship was not all on Jeff Hardy though. Punk might have answered John's calls that night if he hadn't of had that talk with Randy. The problem was that he shouldn't have needed to get the story from Randy. John should have manned up long before now that he had been in a serious relationship with Jeff Hardy. The few times that they had discussed their ex's should have been the opening that John needed to tell him about his relationship with Hardy.

Punk couldn't lie to himself. If he had known about John and Hardy before he and John had become a couple it might have stopped the thing developing between them in its tracks, he hated Hardy that much. Just picturing Hardy kissing John made him physically ill. Had John taken Hardy home with him to Tampa? Had John taken Hardy off to a tropical locale and spent their time in the sun and making love? Had John told Hardy that he loved him?

These thoughts were driving him crazy and he had to find something to occupy his mind. He hadn't caught the end of Raw since he ditched early. He knew exactly who would be featured in that closing 45 minutes, he just couldn't help himself, and at this point he was thriving on his misery. He pulled out his laptop and found the pages for that Raw on YouTube.

Somehow John had gotten involved in the bitch fight between Jim Ross and Michael Cole with the winning team being able to set the stipulation for the match at Vengeance. John looked like he was in as much emotional turmoil as Punk was. John's mood switched wildly between his typical John Cena behavior to behaving like a vicious predator. He beat the hell out of Cole who was as far from an actual wrestler as a person could be and had no way to really defend himself. He could have ended the match himself but elected to let Ross make Cole tap, John looking like he perversely enjoying Cole being completely humiliated.

After the match del Rio predictably attacked John. John sent del Rio to the outside of the ring. John was content to use everything around ringside as a weapon, even hitting the AA on the thin mats that covered the concrete floor. He then took apart the ringside steps using them to slam del Rio in the face with them. John gleefully started to count to ten with del Rio lying knocked out on the ground. Punk knew what this meant; John intended to make the stipulation a Last Man Standing match. John obviously wanted to be able to inflict as much pain on del Rio as possible. Punk knew del Rio well enough to know that he would stoop to almost anything to see that John would be in as much agony as he was.

Even though he and John were no longer together he still worried about him. No matter how much he wished it was so feelings just didn't disappear with a snap of his fingers. He had realized that no matter what John had done with Jeff he couldn't just turn his emotions off.

**October 23, 2011**

_Vengeance_

Punk had just checked into his room in San Antonio. He was moving his gear from his suitcase into his gym bag when there was an insistent knock on the door.

Punk considered ignoring the knocking when he heard a voice from outside the door, "Punk, I know you're in there. Answer the damn door," Triple H was yelling from outside the door.

Punk opened the door and Triple H stormed in obviously pissed.

"Where the hell have you been? You skipped the house show and then you no-showed all the fan events. What the fuck?"

"I was told that my attendance was not necessary at those events."

"Fucking Laurinaitis. Don't worry about that. I'm still COO, my father-in-law is still Chairman, and I know from experience you know who my wife is. I'll make the call after Vengeance. The Board of Directors won't be pleased when they find out that Laurinaitis is failing to promote their #1 merchandise seller."

"What?"

"Oh, you haven't heard. For the first time in three years someone has outsold Cena. Considering the present circumstances that must feel like quite the victory. You're the WWE's hottest commodity. After applying the proper pressure I'm sure Laurinaitis will come around. Get your stuff together and we'll catch a cab to the arena. Until the official raises our hands in victory tonight we're going to be attached at the hip. I won't have Miz and Truth jumping you before the match leaving me to deal with those fuckers alone."

Punk finished getting his things together and they took a cab to the arena. They immediately went to the roster meeting where they reviewed the card for the night. Punk was not surprised in the slightest when he heard that they had added a new match to the card. Hardy was going to be facing Morrison.

He looked around the room until he spotted Melina and he waved to catch her attention. She mouthed at him that she would talk to him later. She jerked her head to the side and Punk's eyes ran over the row until they found John staring at the floor, his arms wrapped so tightly around himself, like he was physically holding himself together. Punk took the opportunity to do what he had been denying himself for two weeks; he allowed himself the pleasure of just looking at John. A million memories flew through his brain and he just couldn't stop staring. John must have felt his gaze on him and looked up, their eyes locking on each other's, neither of them looking away. The look in John's eyes made him want to vault the seats separating them and just throw himself into John's arms and tell him that no one could love him as much as he did.

His saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and sitting next to John was Hardy who had obviously been watching the whole exchange. In that moment, any thought about him and John coming back to each other was extinguished. The little shit smirked at him and placed his hand on John's knee. Punk immediately turned around. He was so tempted to break every finger on that hand but he knew Triple H wouldn't appreciate him starting something before their match.

After the meeting the room emptied out. Melina waved Punk over.

"We need to get to the locker room, not stand around and have a girl chat."

"Just give me a minute."

He walked over to Melina who was smiling brightly.

"You seem to be in an exceptionally good mood."

"Hardy is in for a hell of a night."

"Really?"

"I came up with a plan. Hardy is a creature of habit in the ring. It wasn't hard to find a way to use that against him."

"What has your diabolical mind come up with? That match between them was very close last week. I can't believe that Laurinaitis would put his new recruit in that position again."

"Apparently Laurinaitis should have never opened up that twitter account. There was an insane amount of messages asking for a rematch. It's been all over the internet too. It left our Interim GM with no choice. Go get dressed. You won't want to miss the opening match."

Punk dressed quickly. Triple H was not very happy about being rushed out the locker room. Melina was already in the monitor bay, sitting front and center. Punk sat next to her and they started talking with Triple H playing watchdog next to him. The pay per view started and Melina started bouncing in her seat.

"The match is starting, you two are going to love this."

The bell rang and John had Hardy glued to the mat in seconds in a headlock. As the match went on Punk grew more and more impressed. John was pulling off some intricate holds in the ring keeping Hardy grounded and unable to perform his usual acrobatic set of moves. This seemed to be frustrating Hardy to no end. Punk didn't want to piss off Melina by asking where the hell her boyfriend had come up with a whole new style of wrestling in a week. Triple H had no such problem.

"Okay, not to bash Morrison, but he wasn't exactly a mat general a week ago. Where in the hell did he learn to wrestle like that?"

"We watched WrestleMania XII about a million times," Melina said simply, as if that would explain everything.

"Morrison came up with all this by watching the Shawn vs. Bret Iron Man match?"

"If you wanted to become an exceptional technical wrestler in under a week what would you watch?"

"All this from watching TV, really?" Triple H said, highly skeptical.

"Well, there was practicing. I had to fill in for Jeff Hardy quite a few times."

Punk couldn't keep quiet any longer, "Are you telling me that you let your boyfriend practice holds on you?"

"Don't knock my relationship. You two ought to take a look at your own relationships before judging mine. I never married someone who was unconscious in Las Vegas."

"I see your point. Let's just watch the match," Triple H said, ending the conversation before his exploits were discussed further.

Hardy finally got loose from Morrison hitting him with a series of drop kicks and a Twist of Fate that seemed to incapacitate Morrison. Hardy climbed the top rope, obviously getting ready to do the Swanton Bomb.

"Oh hell," Punk said, having been in that position many times before.

"Just wait…" Melina said with relish.

Hardy flew through the air and ended up slamming into the mat with bone jarring force. Morrison had rolled out of the way at the last moment.

"You knew that was going to happen," Triple H commented with veiled approval.

"John didn't just learn some new moves; there was some strategizing as well."

Hardy was laid out on the mat, grabbing his lower back, obviously in pain. Punk waited for John to perform the Starship Pain or some other gravity defying move from the top rope. He was confused when John pulled him to the center of the ring, too far away from the turnbuckles to hit any aerial maneuver with precision. John put Hardy in a Boston Crab submission maneuver, practically bending over backwards, and putting what looked like an agonizing amount of pressure on Hardy's already hurt lower back. Hardy held out for a minute, trying to get to the ropes but John kept pulling him back to the center of the ring. After about a minute more Punk watched gleefully as Hardy tapped.

Both Punk and Triple H looked to Melina for further explanation.

"What? Everybody thinks the only way to beat Jeff Hardy is to perform moves just as crazy as his. The problem is that you can't. Hardy has no value for his own life, he'll do absolutely anything, no matter how dangerous, to win. You just take advantage of on his need to show off, let him crash and burn and then capitalize on his mistake."

"No one gives John or you for that matter, enough credit," Punk said, both proud of his friends and ashamed by not thinking of this plan personally.

Punk watched as Melina jumped up from her seat and waited by the hallway for John to appear. John finally rounded the corner and Melina jumped up, giving John a kiss that, by Punk's standards, was a little inappropriate for the workplace. He couldn't really blame the couple though. They had pulled off a flawless victory that the entire roster should be embarrassed of not thinking up on their own.

Punk, Triple H, and Melina were joined by the triumphant Morrison after he had taken a shower. Punk and Triple H watched the show, trying to ignore their other two seatmates that couldn't keep their hands off each other.

"Jesus Christ, can you two go find an abandoned hallway somewhere before I throw up?" Triple H said sounding more entertained than he was disgusted.

There was one more match before theirs. Triple H stood up and pulled Punk up with him. "Come on, I have to go to the trainer and have them stretch my quads before the match."

"Do I really have to follow you everywhere? You might as well get me one of those leashes parents put on their children."

"If I could find one big enough I already would have."

Triple H opened the trainer's door and closed it just as quickly. "Can I trust you not to start anything until after our match?"

"Why? Who's in there? Oh, is Hardy still being seen to by the trainer, he must be more damaged than I thought. How about this, I won't start anything physical but I can't promise not to laugh in his face."

"I would tell you to control yourself, but I know that's too much to hope for."

After Triple H was stretched out they walked toward the arena entrance.

"Wow, you really have no self-control do you?

"I have tons of self-control, I am straight edge after all, but I am blessed with a vicious mouth and it's stupid not to use my natural abilities."

"Yeah, I'm sure Hardy was happy to listen to you give a play by play of the match he just lost while he was writhing in pain."

"Do you care about me hurting Jeff Hardy's feelings?"

"Not in the slightest."

"So unless you have any pep talks to deliver I say we bring this little odd couple act to an end and shut up and fight."

_AN: I really want to thank the reviewers of the last chapter. You guys pointed out some vital holes in my story. I made the mistake of taking off with a great idea without figuring out an exit strategy first. Brilliant, right? I now have the eventual end in mind but the middle area is kind of a muddle right now. This could result in lightning fast or unbearably slow updates. I hope this chapter addresses some of those holes and puts your mind at ease, as much as it can be when our boys are at odds more than they ever have before._


	12. Chapter 12

Triple H and Punk waited around the corner for Miz and Truth to enter the arena. Once their music cued up they took their places at the arena entrance. Punk came out first. He took a seat indian style in the corner and waited while Triple H made his way to the ring. Triple H did his usual shtick with spitting the water and Punk quickly realized that his choice of waiting area was a bad one when he was sprayed with water and spit. They had better win the match to make being spit on by Triple H worth it.

Punk started off the match against Miz. Punk and Triple H both slapped Miz and the humiliation was enough to drive Miz to tag out. Punk went for the tag and got slapped across the chest instead of his extended hand. Oh yeah, that motion boded so well for the success of their alliance.

As the match progressed he and Triple H began working better as a team. In the early goings they seemed to be owning their opponents pretty decisively. They even took a page from Miz and Truth's book and took every opportunity to double team them. Eventually both sides settled into the match and Miz and Truth were doing everything possible to keep Triple H in their side of the ring making a tag impossible.

Eventually Triple H made the tag and Punk took out his frustrations about having to sit on the sidelines for so long. He flew into the ring, taking on both Miz and Truth at the same time, eventually Truth bailed out of the ring only to find himself being beat down around ringside by Triple H.

He was owning Miz in the ring when he heard the boo's start to catch around the arena. He had heard that sound so often these days that he knew it only meant one thing, outside interference was imminent. He turned his back on Miz. He looked to the outside only to see Kevin Nash punch Triple H in the head. He hated to make Triple H the sacrificial lamb but while Nash was busy he had the chance to end this match. He set Miz up for the GTS, only to have Truth interfere. He looked for the official but he was caught up in the action outside the ring and not what was going on inside the ring like he should be.

Miz and Truth took advantage of the official's distraction and Miz and Truth performed their finishing maneuvers on him. He was stunned and before he could even register it, he had been pinned. He rolled outside the ring, and while he wasn't able to offer the assist he could hear the action in the ring. By the reaction he could hear from the crowd he knew that Triple H was on the receiving end of whatever Nash was dishing out.

Punk made his way backstage and waited for Triple H by the arena entrance. He looked at the monitor to see the replay of what had taken place in the ring while he was recovering on the floor. Either Nash was trying to break Triple H's neck or he no longer had the ability to perform the Jackknife Power bomb correctly.

Triple H eventually made his way backstage holding his neck.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm going to be fine. It's Nash that's going to find himself in a world of pain," Triple H said sadistically. With one look from his tag team partner he knew that making Nash pay for his interference was going to be the sole business of The Game.

Punk went to the locker room and showered, changing into his street clothes and taking his place next to Melina and Morrison in the monitor bay. They had obviously returned from their little interlude. He looked at the monitor to find Big Show vs. Mark Henry already in progress. He was shocked to hell along with the rest of the roster when the two big men performed a superplex that collapsed the ring. Laurinaitis made his way to the ring with Teddy Long. It took quite some time to get the two obviously injured men out of the ring.

He was shocked when Laurinaitis announced that the Last Man Standing match was going to take place even though the ring was in shambles. Del Rio looked angry that they were being made to wrestle in such a situation. John seemed like he couldn't care less. That was quite an indication of John's mental state.

Punk could barely watch as del Rio moved John under one of the collapsed ring posts and then jumped on it, driving it into John's sternum. John recovered around the count of 7, only to be charged by Rodriguez trying to interfere in the match once again.

The action spilled out of the ring into the ringside area. Punk knew from experience that the ringside is where the most damage could be done. Punk tried to avert his eyes as they made their way into the backstage area that was filled with things that could be used as weapons. They moved toward a set for backstage interviews and del Rio pulled the entire set down on top of John. There was no way that John was going to recover from that.

John was back on his feet at 8 but del Rio was all over him. They made their way back into the arena with del Rio throwing John through one of the V's that made up the arena entrance area set. They fought their way down the ramp back to ringside. John performed the AA on del Rio putting him through the Spanish announce table while standing on top of the steel ring stairs.

It looked like it was the end of del Rio until Miz and Truth came running into the ring, starting to beat John down. The official's attention was on the interference and not del Rio unconscious outside of the ring. The official could have counted to 15 he took so long to actually do his job.

Both men recovered before the count of ten, only for del Rio to hit John in the head with his Championship belt. John was counted down. Del Rio had won the match.

John finally recovered at looked at del Rio backing up the ramp with the Championship in his hands. All Punk could say was that John looked completely lost. Not so long ago Punk would have met John at the arena entrance and they would have left together, Punk trying his damndest to make John smile again. It killed him that this wasn't his job anymore. He looked around the monitor bay to see if Hardy was the one rushing off to take care of John now but Hardy was nowhere to be seen.

Punk grabbed his things and returned to his hotel. Walking through the lobby he glanced at the bar and saw Jeff Hardy. He saw red. John was in serious need of some help and his boyfriend was in the bar. The closer Punk got to Hardy he could tell that Hardy had been drinking for some time. It was amazing that he was still able to sit up; he was swaying quite a bit.

"What the fuck Hardy! John has a last man standing match and you cut out on the pay-per-view early so you could come drink your ass off. What kind of fucked up boyfriend are you?"

"I'm actually no one's boyfriend at the moment but you don't have to be committed to someone to get the things you want from them," Hardy said with a sickening smile. "And anyway, as I'm sure you joyfully noticed, I lost my match too."

"You tapped after 20 minutes in the ring. John got thrown through multiple parts of the set. I think his match and health is much more important than yours."

"I don't consider anything more important than me."

"I guess it was too much to hope for that in the time you were gone you would have become less of a jerk but you're still the same junkie asshole that you were before you left. I'm going to throw one hell of a party when you get suspended for a wellness violation."

"You can take your self-righteous straight edge lifestyle and shove it up your ass, but that's your problem isn't it. Are you missing your precious John? You should have seen the look on your face when you walked into that hotel room. No amount of physical pain I could inflict could equal that fucking devastated look on your face. I took everything away from you and I can assure you that it felt so fucking good."

"Shut your fucking mouth before I slap the taste out of it."

"I'd love for you to try. We're not in WWE territory anymore. You lay a hand on me in public and I'll have you in cuffs for assault so fast it would make your head spin, and that's not even counting what Laurinaitis would do to you. You took away my career and I would love to see him end yours just as quickly."

"At some point in the near future we are going to end up in the ring together and I can guarantee you that I'm going to fucking end you," with that Punk turned on his heel and headed towards the elevators.

Once Punk had returned to his hotel room, he flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His little talk with Hardy was enough to make him want to tear his hotel room apart stick by stick. He had to think of something else, anything else, that would prevent him from going back down to that bar and kicking the shit out of Hardy, damn the consequences. He turned his mind to the state of his career in the WWE. There were more than enough fucking problems there to keep his mind off Hardy.

This was his third loss in a row as far as pay-per-views were concerned. While with John the prospect of winning the Championship seemed secondary in his life behind his relationship with John. Now that John was gone and moved onto someone else it left a huge hole in his life. Like most people he needed to fill that hole with something else, mainly work. Although these losses seemed to place him as far away from a Championship as possible, he knew that there had to be a way back in. He had never gotten his one-on-one rematch after being cashed in on. With Laurinaitis in charge getting that rematch seemed extremely remote. There was only one way to recapture the elation he felt at Money in the Bank, he was going to have to talk his way into a title shot with the WWE Universe at his back.

It took a long time but Punk finally nodded off. He was awoken by his cell phone going off. It was a call from Randy and it was 3AM.

"This better be fucking important," Punk answered, barely awake.

"I need you to come to my room, there's a problem," Punk got Randy's room number and pulled on some clothes hurriedly.

He knocked on Randy's door and Randy answered the door looking very haggard. Punk stepped into the room and he could hear the sound of retching coming from the bathroom.

"It's John. I couldn't sleep so I went down to the bar for a drink. When I got there Hardy was pouring shots down John's throat. John fell off his chair; he was too drunk to even hold himself up. I wasn't going to leave him with that jerk off Hardy so I picked him up and brought him back here. He's been throwing up for the last two hours, crying on and off. He's been saying some things that worry me, particularly about you. Whatever is going on with Hardy I don't think it's what it appears to be."

"So you called me so I could make it worse…"

"I called you because I know you're the only one that can talk him down enough so that he can just pass out."

"I haven't had much experience lately in dealing with drunk people. I'll probably end up going on some straight edge rant about the evils of alcohol."

"This is about John, I'm pretty positive that you'll be able to keep your messiah like speeches in check."

Punk walked into the bathroom and John had his hands folded over the toilet seat with his head resting on them facing away from the door.

"Randy, I think I'm dying."

"You're not dying. You're just paying the price for trying to drink yourself to death."

John's head popped up and he was up on his knees, with his arms wrapped around Punk's middle burying his head in Punk's stomach. He had moved with far more speed than an injured, drunken man should possess.

"Phil, please, you've got to love me again, if you don't I think I'll die," and with that John started crying again.

"John, you're drunk. Get up and let's get you in bed."

"No! I'm not letting go until you say that you love me. I still love you; I'll never love anyone but you."

Punk tried to unwrap John's arms from around his middle, but even in John's inebriated state, his arms were impossible to pry off.

"It's all lies, all of it, I promise."

"John, please, get up so we can get you in bed."

"No! Not until you say that you still love me."

Punk was torn. It wouldn't be a lie to say that he still loved John, but it would kill him to say those words then have to see him at Raw tomorrow with Jeff Hardy glued to his side. John started crying harder and Punk could feel his heart break open.

"John, I still love you…"

John jumped to his feet and tried to kiss Punk but he turned his head away. He wasn't going to let John break his heart anymore tonight.

"Come on; let me help you to bed."

"Yes, Phil, yes, whatever you want."

Hearing those words come out of John's mouth after such a long time was devastating and Punk could feel a few tears slide down his cheek. Punk wiped off his face, helped John up, and guided him into the living room where Randy was sitting on the sofa. He had his head buried in his hands. He looked up at Punk with such a look of pain that Punk knew that Randy had heard every word said in the bathroom.

"Let me help you with him, he's damn lucky I have a suite tonight or I would have let him sleep on the bathroom floor," Randy looped John's other arm around his neck and helped guide John to the other bedroom. "Let me go get some water and aspirin. Get him to take them with all the water so he doesn't feel like death warmed over tomorrow. We have an early flight to Austin in the morning for Raw."

They laid John down and Randy left to get the water and aspirin. John grabbed Punk's hand and held it to his chest. Randy returned and looked at the situation Punk had found himself in. Randy looked Punk in the eye with a look that could only be described as empathy.

"I'll leave you two alone, yell if you need me," and Randy left, leaving the door open a crack.

"John, I need you to take these pills and drink all this water."

"Only if you say that you'll stay with me."

Punk realized that he had never really known true weakness until this moment.

"Okay, I'll stay, but water first."

John took the pills and drained the bottle of water, and then he looked up at Punk, his eyes still shiny with tears. Punk laid down on his side, his back to John. Hopefully in this position it would make the situation a little more bearable. John wasn't having it though. He spooned up behind Punk, throwing an arm and a leg over his side, burying his head in Punk's neck.

"I missed you so much Phil."

Punk started shaking with the effort to hold himself together. Punk knew John had finally fallen asleep when the grip John had on his body slackened. Punk unwound John's arm and leg from around his body and stood up, pulling the covers over John's sleeping form.

Punk left Randy's room and returned to his own, a complete emotional mess. Although Punk usually didn't take the ramblings of drunk people too much to heart, he couldn't help but hope that what John said that night was the truth.

There was no way that Punk was going to sleep tonight so he left his room and decided to walk the streets of San Antonio until the sun came up. After walking for a while he passed a bus bench and did a double take. Triple H was sitting on the bench. Punk took a seat beside him.

"If the McMahon's are forced to take the bus these days I better start looking for another job."

"It kills me to say this but I've never been happier than right now to hear your sarcastic quips."

"If I asked you if you wanted to talk about it would you Pedigree me on this bus bench?"

"It's Kevin. I just can't reconcile the Kevin tonight with the Kevin that has been my friend for over a decade."

"Not that I can know for sure but it's probably the job. I know I've lost and gained friends more than I can count because of this job. Are you okay; you looked like you broke your neck the way you landed after than power bomb."

"One of the doctors gave me a painkiller, I'm not really feeling the injury right now but I know it's there. By the way, after I talked Stephanie down from finding Kevin and beating him to death with a baseball bat I talked to Vince. He still pretty much hates your guts but he cares more about the success of the WWE than his personal feelings. Laurinaitis should be getting a call in the morning. Why are you out roaming the streets?"

"It was a trifecta of horrid events. First I had it out with Hardy, then I started thinking about the dead zone of my career, and then I had to deal with an emotional and drunken John."

"I know it doesn't make me much of a competitor but I could give a shit about losing that match tonight. There are much more important things going on besides Miz and Truth."

"Agreed. Though it looks like they've set their sights on John instead."

"Best of luck to Cena then. Let's get back to the hotel before we get mugged or something that would do wonders for both of our careers. Also, this conversation never happened."

_AN: I'm going to have to think really hard about extending the angst or sparing us anymore pain over our boys. I'll probably have to write happy and sad on two sheets of paper and then pick one out of a hat. That probably says a lot about my creative process, none of it good. Thank you again for the great reviews._


	13. Chapter 13

**October 24, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

Punk awoke to his cell phone ringing. He looked at the clock, it was 9AM, he must have fallen asleep at some point. He picked up the phone, it was Randy.

"Is John still alive?"

"Yes, but he's wishing he wasn't. He's got a killer hangover. I gave him an Alka-Seltzer and ginger ale, he should be recovered enough to fly in two hours, but that's not why I'm calling."

"I'm afraid to ask why you're calling and why you're whispering."

"I'm in the bathroom so John doesn't hear me. We have a problem."

"Another one?" Punk asked worriedly.

"John blacked out. He doesn't remember any of last night."

Punk's heart dropped into his stomach. This couldn't be happening. "Does he even remember Hardy trying to drink him to death?"

"No. He remembers that he started drinking alone, but doesn't remember much after that. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to have to talk to John eventually."

"You better make it sooner rather than later before John does something he regrets."

Punk walked into the arena and found his locker room. He couldn't help his eyes seeking out John and he found him with Randy on one side and the wall on the other. Hardy didn't look very pleased by this. Punk took his eyes of Randy and they slid back over to John, who was staring at him intently. Punk couldn't help himself and the smallest smile broke out across his face. John looked shocked at first but then returned the smile dimples and all. He moved to approach Punk but Punk merely shook his head. John looked crestfallen, like someone gave him a toy then snatched it right back. Punk was dying to talk to John but this was a conversation better to be had face to face and in private.

Punk found a road agent who told him that he didn't have a match scheduled. Apparently Laurinaitis wanted to get one final dig in before he fell in line with the Board of Directors' request. He convinced the road agent to tell him what del Rio was scheduled for. Del Rio had a victory speech planned for tonight after his win at Vengeance. That was one party the Punk was going to be crashing.

Punk settled in to watch the show. He wasn't shocked in the slightest when Triple H came to the ring and told the crowd about how his and Nash's relationship had disintegrated. He ended his speech by calling out Nash to the ring so he could exact justice over what had happened last night.

It wasn't Nash that answered the call but Laurinaitis. Triple H demanded that Laurinaitis find Nash and sign him to a contract so that he could kick his ass in the ring. When it appeared that Nash was not coming to the ring Triple H started to make his way to the arena entrance. Laurinaitis tried to exert his power over Triple H but Triple H stated that he was still COO, making him Laurinaitis' boss. Triple H turned his back and Nash came out and brutally beat Triple H with a sledgehammer. Triple H seemed to be injured and needed to be carried out by the officials who helped him to an ambulance. It seemed to be over but Nash showed up again, pulling him out of the ambulance and striking Triple H in the head with a sledgehammer. Triple H was unconscious after that shot.

In the meantime while waiting for del Rio to appear he saw John confronting Laurinaitis and demanding a match with Miz and Truth. Laurinaitis quickly agreed as long as he got to pick John's tag team partner. Laurinaitis obviously had a scheme already in mind. It was later revealed that John's partner was Zack Ryder. Punk had learned to stomach the so-called Internet Champion but he didn't think his skills were on a level to have a main event match just yet.

He saw del Rio make his way to the ring and Punk jumped from his seat and rushed to the arena entrance. He waited while del Rio made his pretentious entrance. He might as well let del Rio get a few words in before he interrupted him. That proved to be a mistake as del Rio proceeded to bore the hell out of the WWE Universe. Punk had the tech cue his music up and he entered the arena with mic in hand.

Punk took great joy in pointing out to del Rio that he had beaten him multiple times and that he had never received his one on one rematch.

Del Rio really pissed him off when he said that he would face any worthy opponent but Punk was not worthy. He pointed out his last three pay-per-view losses and called him a loser, telling him to come back when he had at least one victory under his belt. Punk took his case to the audience who voiced their opinion that they would very much like to see Punk in a title match. Of course, Laurinaitis interrupted his and del Rio's exchange.

Laurinaitis offered Punk the very thing he was after, a title shot at Survivor Series, but of course there was a catch. He would have to tell Laurinaitis he respected him. Punk could do that but Laurinaitis should have requested that Punk give him a sincere statement, Punk could say he respected Laurinaitis until he was blue in the face but the tone of that statement probably was not what Laurinaitis meant when he made the request. Punk proceeded to give the most insincere and hilarious statement of respect, making sure to get in a lot of personal digs in the process. Punk couldn't help his mouth sometimes and his display had caused Laurinaitis to delay making his decision about the title match until next week's Raw.

Punk had made his point and he was wavering on whether or not to cut out of Raw early since he didn't have a match. Of course he decided to stay and see John's match, no matter the wounds he was still nursing over the events last night.

It was announced that Triple H had a cracked vertebrae and a concussion which would result in him being out for the next six weeks. He could only hope that Nash would stay away for the next six weeks as well, so that he didn't have to worry about Nash setting his sights on him again with the absence of Triple H.

Miz and Truth attacked Ryder in the backstage area, making John's match a handicap match. Not so long ago Punk would have offered his services as a replacement but he thought that in the current state of affairs it would only serve to confuse and distract John.

In the beginning John seemed to be pretty capable of taking on Miz and Truth alone, but as the match went on the double teaming was proving too much for John to take. Miz and Truth both hit their finishing maneuvers, but did not try to pin John, Instead they went to ringside and brought chairs into the ring.

Laurinaitis showed up and prevented Miz and Truth from beating John with the chairs. Punk supposed even someone like Laurinaitis had to be right once in a while. As Miz and Truth were walking away, Laurinaitis stopped them. He announced that there would be a tag match at Survivor Series with John choosing his own partner. John, inexplicably, chose the Rock. He never though John was dumb, but seriously, that had to be one of the worst decisions ever made in the WWE.

Punk was on his way out of the arena when a road agent approached him, "Mr. Laurinaitis would like to see you in his office."

Punk entered Laurinaitis' office and took a seat without being asked.

"I don't know how you did it, but I got a call from Mr. McMahon this morning. He called to tell me that the Board of Directors is unhappy with the way I've been promoting you," Laurinaitis handed over a piece of paper. "This is a schedule of your appearances, autograph signings and house shows. Why anyone would want to attend any of those events is beyond me but the Board of Directors think otherwise. You can get that smirk off your face, I'm not finished. Since the Board thinks you need to be promoted more I've decided to give them more than they requested. The morning after Raw you'll be getting on a plane for Houston. I've scheduled you for a match on Smackdown."

Punk waited for Laurinaitis to continue but he didn't seem like he was going to be anymore forthcoming.

"That's fine with me. I came up in the indies; pulling double duty is nothing to me."

Laurinaitis seemed frustrated that Punk wasn't going to badger him for more information,

"Just get the hell out of my office."

"Gladly."

Punk left Laurinaitis' office and immediately searched out a road agent that he knew to me a fan of his.

"Dave, could I ask a favor?"

"Sure, what?"

"Do you know who my match is with on Smackdown?"

"Yes, but Mr. Laurinaitis…"

"…is a jackass."

"I wouldn't want to see you walk into this without any warning. You're scheduled to face Jeff Hardy," Dave said, practically flinching, waiting for Punk to blow up but it never happened.

"Thanks Dave," Punk said with a smile and walked away. He had some homework to do.

**October 26, 2011**

_Smackdown_

Punk arrived in Houston early and spent the time before Smackdown reviewing the game plan he had been working on since the night after Raw had concluded. He had scoured his brain and then took to the internet searching for the most painful holds and submission maneuvers he could find. Winning was secondary, he mainly just wanted to inflict as much pain as possible. If tonight went to plan he might need to bring Laurinaitis a fruit basket at the next Raw.

Punk entered the arena and walked into his assigned locker room. The Smackdown roster seemed uniformly shocked to see Punk there. The Supershow idea usually only worked in one direction. Punk spied Randy and took the spot next to him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Laurinaitis' idea of punishment."

"If it's a punishment why do you seem so damn happy, it's kind of scary to be honest. Considering the current situation with John I thought you would be pretty depressed."

"This is all about John, in fact."

"How is that?"

Punk leaned closer to Randy so no one could overhear them and go running to Laurinaitis to gain brownie points and perhaps an appearance on the next Raw.

"Laurinaitis booked the match but didn't tell me who I would be facing. It wasn't hard to find a road agent willing to spill the beans; Laurinaitis is pretty much despised by all."

"Who is the match against?"

"Jeff fucking Hardy," Punk said with a sadistic smile.

"Is it your birthday? Laurinaitis couldn't have given you a better gift."

"I know, right."

"He's probably expecting you to be so shocked that you won't be able to perform worth a damn."

"He's going to be highly disappointed; he's going to get one hell of a show."

"Having faced you before I know exactly what you're capable of when you're particularly inspired. Not to bring you down when you're in such a feral mood but have you decided what you're going to do about John?"

"Yeah. Things are going to be settled one way or another before we leave for the European tour."

Punk and Randy finished changing into their ring gear and moved to the monitor bay. A road agent approached them and informed them that Randy would be facing Dolph Ziggler in a non-title match and that Punk would be in the main event. The road agent looked like he was waiting to be the victim of the GTS when he didn't reveal who Punk would be facing. Punk just nodded and the road agent walked away, both confused and thankful that Punk hadn't pressed him for details.

"If I didn't know what was up for tonight I'd be pretty pissed that you demoted me from the main event."

By that time the entire roster had assembled in front of the monitors, but there was no Jeff Hardy.

"Are you sure about this Hardy thing? He's not here."

"I'm sure Laurinaitis told him to lay low until the match. Laurinaitis wouldn't want me to be tipped off early enough to get myself prepared for the match.

Randy and Punk watched the matches. Punk catching up with a very reluctant Christian while Randy was in the ring defeating Ziggler.

When Randy returned in his street clothes it was almost time for Punk's match.

"Ready?"

"More than."

Punk rose, making his way to the arena entrance. All the techs in the area seemed to be extremely jumpy, no doubt expecting Punk to flip out at any second.

Punk's music cued up and he made his way to the ring. The crowd was both surprised and excited to see him on Smackdown. Punk grabbed a mic and took a seat indian style in the middle of the ring. The crowd started to yell even louder. Punk was getting ready to drop a pipe bomb that was directed at Laurinaitis and Hardy, who was probably waiting at the arena entrance, eager to get the jump on him.

"I just want to say that I'm happy to be here on Smackdown. I want to personally thank Mr. John Laurinaitis for setting up this match. Tonight I'll be facing, in a re-match, one of my most loathed opponents. Why don't you welcome Jeff Hardy to the ring because I'm in the mood to kick a little ass."

A handful of seconds passed and then Hardy's music finally cued up. He walked out onto the ramp clearly shocked that his cover had been blown. Punk just continued to sit in the middle of the ring grinning cruelly. The crowd started cheering but it was nowhere near the ovation that he had received. He knew he would probably lose a few fans in the course of the match but Punk didn't really want to share fans with someone like Hardy. As Hardy neared the ring, Punk stood, throwing his shirt into the audience and crouching in the corner on the balls of his feet ready to strike the second Hardy stepped foot into the ring.

Hardy hesitantly stepped into the ring, and then jumped up on the turnbuckle, hitting his ballet like pose. Punk rushed the corner, pulling Hardy's legs from under him, causing Hardy to smack his head on the turnbuckle. The bell hadn't even rung yet. The official pulled Punk away from the dazed Hardy laying in the corner. The bell finally rung. Punk swiftly dragged Hardy to the middle of the ring, putting him a particularly brutal headlock with his body flat on the canvas. Hardy struggled and eventually fought out of the hold.

Punk pulled Hardy up by his hair and Hardy came up on one knee and Punk hit the ropes bouncing off with great force, one leg balancing on Hardy's raised knee while the other delivered a kick to the head. The Shining Wizard had been a move he used frequently in the indies but had never really utilized in the WWE.

With Hardy flat on the canvas Punk began kicking Hardy viciously in the side. At the very least there would be bruises tomorrow but Punk was hoping for a broken rib or two. Hardy curled into a ball and Punk backed off. He went to the turnbuckle and jumped up to the top rope, balancing indian style, waiting patiently for Hardy to recover. This match was nowhere near over.

Hardy got to his feet and Punk jumped down from the ropes. He approached Hardy and they locked up in the traditional style. Hardy whipped him into the ropes but Punk had wrestled Hardy enough to know what was coming. He grabbed onto the ropes instead of bouncing off, Hardy's dropkick meeting nothing but air. Punk then whipped Hardy into the corner, hitting him with his patented high knee and following up with a bulldog. Punk climbed onto the top rope hitting a high elbow. He should have gone for a pin but that was not the point of this exercise.

He rolled Hardy onto his side, putting him in a Guillotine Choke, wrapping his legs around Hardy's chest, his head in a sleeper hold. Hardy tried to get free but Punk just cinched in the hold more. He could feel Hardy trying to draw breath but the pressure from the hold made it impossible. When Punk felt Hardy's head begin to nod against his arm he let go. Hardy lay on the mat gasping for air. This was probably the most boring match that the fans had ever seen but it was going perfectly as far as Punk was concerned.

Once Hardy was on his feet Punk locked in a Rear Naked Choke. Besides being highly effective at choking someone into unconsciousness, it was also a trademark of Alberto del Rio's when he was fighting in MMA. Why not send a message to the Champion while he was having a little fun. Hardy started to fade and eventually dropped to his knees. Punk followed him down, not relenting. Hardy's weight fell against him, he was out. The official lifted Hardy's arm and it dropped to his side. The official lifted his arm and it dropped again. One more and the official would stop the match.

Punk let go of Hardy who fell unconscious to the mat. Punk put himself between Hardy and the official making it impossible for the official to get the final drop of the arm. Punk began slapping Hardy across the face, trying to revive him. Hardy eventually came to. Punk let him get his bearings; he wanted Hardy to be fully conscious for this next part. Hardy was lying on the mat when Punk leaned over him.

"I told you that I would get you in the ring eventually, and when I did I would end you. I hope you've been enjoying it so far, you're going to love the next part."

Punk locked in the Anaconda Vise and Hardy started screaming. He tapped after a few seconds but Punk didn't let up. It was going to take a team of officials to get him to release the hold, which is exactly what it took. Punk looked down at Hardy, writhing on the ground clutching his arm.

Punk jumped on the turnbuckle screaming, "Best in the World!"

The audience hesitated than exploded. Punk jumped down and made his way up the ramp, smiling brightly.

He returned to the locker room to shower and change into his street clothes. Randy was already waiting for him.

"That was sadistically impressive. You want to go grab something to eat?"

"I can't. I'm taking the red eye back to Chicago. I have an appointment that I need to keep."

Punk hailed and cab and headed for the airport. After getting though the endless line that was security he took a seat in the waiting area. He had gotten there just in time. Punk pulled out his cell phone and typed out a message, the same message he had left long ago that had put his and John's relationship in motion.

"No matter what happens," and then he typed in his home address. He would just have to wait, extremely impatiently, to see if John showed up.


	14. Chapter 14

**October 27, 2011**

Punk didn't get home from Houston until 4AM. It was useless to even try and sleep. His anxiety about possibly seeing John was too high. Every fiber of his straight edge identity told him that nothing coming from a drunk was reliable but if John's drunken words was to be taken seriously then John had been despondent over their severed relationship. Looking back on John's behavior over the past two weeks the truth behind John's desperate drunken words was obvious. Punk was so wrapped up in his hatred of Jeff Hardy that he neglected to see the signals John had been sending or he was so angry at Hardy's familiarity with John that he discounted them completely.

There was the possibility that while John still loved him he might no longer want to resume their relationship. The hell that Punk had put him through was enough to make someone turn their back on a relationship, no matter if the love was still there.

Punk lay on his sofa, trying to keep his mind busy by attempting to read a comic book. It wasn't a very successful undertaking because he kept looking at the clock every five minutes even though it would be hours until John could possibly show up.

Punk practically jumped out of his skin when there was a frantic pounding on the door. It was 6:15AM, there was no way John could have found a flight that would get him to Chicago this quickly, especially at such short notice. Even though Punk knew that logically there was no way it could be John, it didn't stop Punk from running to the door. He jerked the door open and John threw himself into his arms.

"How did you get here so fast?"

"Private jet. Who cares, I would have hitchhiked if I had to. Phil, I love you, only you for the rest of my life, please say you sent that message because you still love me. I didn't know I could be so miserable since we've been apart."

John stopped talking and just stared Punk in the eyes. He quickly grabbed Punk by the biceps, dragging him against his body and pressing his lips to Punk's. He tried to deepen the kiss but Punk pulled away from John.

"Phil, please…" John said with a whimper.

"Not that I didn't enjoy that but I think we need to talk. Sit down," and both men took a seat on Punk's couch, John gluing himself to Punk's side. Punk pushed John back, leaving at least a little space between them. "Why don't we start with why you didn't tell me that you used to date Jeff Hardy?

John lowered his head, not being able to look Punk in the eye. "Two reasons, 1, I was embarrassed and 2, I thought if you knew that I had dated him you wouldn't have ever given me a chance."

"How about you start with the first part because I'm sure the second doesn't show either one of us in our best light."

"Jeff had hit on me a few times, but I was never even remotely interested. The drinking, the drugs, the horrible work ethic, it was everything that I hated about this business. I didn't want him anywhere near me. Then came the night of the Elimination Chamber, I walked in Champion and left with nothing, less than nothing really. Edge won the Championship even though he had no business being in the match in the first place. He took Kofi's spot by injuring him. I felt betrayed and cheated by the WWE. The officials just let him stroll into a pod. No one, not even the computer generated Raw General Manager made a comment. It was unfair to everyone in the match, but it felt especially unfair to me because I ended up losing the Championship.

I was so depressed that I just dropped my things in my room and then made a beeline for the bar. I was intent on drinking myself into a stupor. Hardy sat beside me and told me all the things that I wanted to hear after the match, that Edge was conniving and underserving, that I had been screwed over by the WWE. He was so understanding and consoling that I didn't tell him to get the hell away from me like I usually did. I've never been a heavy drinker and Hardy just kept buying me drinks, telling me every time that it would be the last one. At some point we must have gone back to my room. I can't really say what happened that night because I don't remember much of it but I do know that we woke up naked in bed together the next morning. I've always had suspicions that there was a possibility that nothing actually happened that night. I was so messed up I would be surprised if I was even able to perform."

"That's all completely understandable, we all make stupid mistakes, but I know that night wasn't the end of it."

"It should have been but in addition to feeling cheated out of my Championship I felt guilty that I had fallen into bed with someone that I didn't particularly like. After that, when Hardy approached me, I didn't blow him off right off the back like I usually did. I guess that I thought if I could find some redeeming quality in him that I would feel better about sleeping with him. The nature of the Elimination Chamber is that with so many people involved it creates alliances among the guys who get behind their friends in the match. No one really had my back and most of them were happy to see me get knocked down a peg or two. Even Randy and I's friendship wasn't as close as we had been because he was in the match too.

Looking back now I can see that I was extremely vulnerable at the time and Jeff is a master manipulator. He made it seem like he was the only person on my side and I don't handle loneliness very well. I would go out drinking with him because I didn't want to have to sit in my hotel room alone and after a lot of drinks falling into bed with him seemed like a good idea. He had always made it clear that sex with me was something that he wanted and to keep him around I gave it to him. I basically prostituted myself out because I couldn't bear being alone.

I don't think he exactly wanted a relationship with me but I pushed for it because I thought it would ease the guilt I had for using him for sex to make myself feel better. Even after we had been together for some time he was always highly reluctant to room and travel with me. I didn't realize at the time why he wanted to keep separate spaces but eventually he gave in and we were together pretty much all of the time. All we really had between us was partying and sex, we never really had much to say to each other beyond that. I started drinking heavily, partying all night, skipping the gym, showing up late to events and my in ring work started to suffer. I don't think I'll ever know how close I came to being fired, but I have to imagine it was at least discussed by the higher ups.

Eventually I got my career back under control and I was ready to end things when you cashed in on him. After that he was in the same place that I had been after the Elimination Chamber. I felt too guilty to just drop him when he needed me most. I allowed things to continue but Jeff's behavior started to become erratic. He started disappearing for hours at a time and would come back to the room totally out of his mind. One night I came back from an appearance a day early and when I walked into the room he was shooting up. I tried to get him to stop but he just kept using more.

One night I packed my bags and told him that I had booked a separate room and that we were over. He started flipping out, saying that he loved me and how could I treat him like this after standing by me. I had never felt anything even close to that for him but I felt guilty because I led him on. I stayed very reluctantly, watching as he continued to self-destruct. You started cutting those promos on Jeff about being a drug-addled loser; I realized that I had tied myself to a junkie that was going to ruin my life if it let things continue as it was. One night I just didn't come to the hotel room and stopped speaking to him.

He kept finding opportunities to confront me, telling me he loved me and begging me to come back. I would just say no and walk away. Eventually he stopped trying and his performance in the ring started to erode, and you ended up sending him on his way out of the WWE and I can't say that I was sad in the least to see him go."

"While some of that seems somewhat understandable a lot of it is pretty screwed up."

"Why do you think I didn't want to tell you? It has to rank up there with the worst mistakes I've ever made in my life. I guess I overcompensated after that by becoming the John Cena that you see on TV, permanently happy and squeaky clean."

"If you were so eager to put Hardy behind you why was he in our hotel room with his arms around you and why is he at your side constantly."

"That night in the hotel room there was a knock on the door, I answered, and he just pushed his way in. He started going on about how he had changed, that he still loved me and we could be together again. When you started to open the door he just threw himself at me. You opened the door and I could see how hurt you were, I tried to get your attention but you wouldn't even look at me. And then Jeff said what he said and you just walked out. I pushed Jeff off me and ran after you but you were gone. I kept calling you but you wouldn't answer and your voicemail never connected. I swear I spent the entire night searching the hotel for you. The next day I tried to talk to you but you kept avoiding me and Jeff wouldn't stop following me wherever I went. I shouldn't have cornered you in the shower like that but I was so desperate to talk to you and then you broke things off. I was so heartbroken that I didn't care what Hardy was doing but that was all you seemed to care about, you never even gave me a chance to set things right."

"I shouldn't have cut you out of my life like I did and I should have given you the chance to explain what I had seen, but I was angry and jealous and Hardy made it seem like you two had gotten back together. Just the thought of you two was driving me insane."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Monday night, in Randy's room, I was there."

"You were?"

"Yeah, you said some things, made me realize I was acting irrationally and making myself miserable over nothing."

"Wait, were we in bed together?"

"Yes we were, you wouldn't let me leave."

"I remember that. I thought I had dreamed that."

"No, but there's something that I have to say and I know it's going to make me look petty and bitter but maybe you were right not to tell me about Hardy. If I had known I probably wouldn't have given you the time of day. It's probably a good thing that I found out later rather than sooner but if you have any more ex's like him that might pop out of the woodwork I should probably know now."

"He's the only skeleton in my closet. You?"

"I am the skeleton in my closet."

John laughed for the first time in a long time. He leaned over Punk, both of them reclining on the sofa. Punk sat up slightly, pressing his lips to John's, kissing him deeply. They stayed that way for a while, both of them happy to just share a simple kiss after being apart for so long. John gave Punk a final peck and slid in between the back of the sofa and Punk's back, spooning him. He nestled his forehead against Punk's neck, lightly kissing his nape.

"Does this mean that we're back together," John's asked softly.

"If that's what you want."

"You might have said you were through with me but I never let go of you."

"I've never been so happy to be the recipient of that famous John Cena temperament, you're being much kinder to me than I deserve."

"Like I've said before, I'm the judge of what you deserve and I say that you deserve me. I know you're supposed to engage in some amazing make up sex in a situation like this but I haven't slept properly in weeks and I just want to be able to sleep with you in my arms again."

"I've been sleeping for shit these past weeks as well. Just relax, I promise to still be here when you wake up," Punk said, pulling John's arm around him and twining their fingers together.

"I love you Phil."

"I love you too John."


	15. Chapter 15

Punk awoke slowly, still wrapped up in John's arms. He looked at the clock on the television. It was 5:17; they had been asleep for half the day. He had definitely needed the sleep and hadn't slept this well since the night he had run out of their hotel room. He rolled over in John's arms and just gazed at John's face, from the dorky crew-cut to his lips which always seemed to be perpetually smiling. Punk ran a finger down the bridge of John's nose. John's hand came up and slapped Punk's had away. Punk tried a different tact, leaning forward, pressing his lips gently to John's. After a few moments Punk felt an answering pressure.

Punk pulled away but John chased his lips and resumed the kiss, holding him there by winding his fingers through Punk's hair. Punk moved his body closer to John's until there wasn't any space between them. He wrapped his arm around John's waist, sliding his hand under John's shirt and palming the warm, bare skin at the small of his back.

John's hand moved from Punk's hair to his knee, eager to touch bare skin. His fingers brushed the back of Punk's knee and then he moved up his hand up, slipping under the hem of Punk's shorts and sliding up until Punk's shorts limited the movement of his hand. Punk moved to wrap his leg around John's waist but was stopped by the back of the couch. John ended the kiss and Punk whimpered faintly.

"While I have fond memories of breaking in this couch I have even fonder memories of your awesome bed. I haven't been inside you in weeks and trust me when I say that I've missed it utterly. I've been so distraught that I couldn't even manage to get myself off. You owe me so much that you'll never be paid up," John said, his lips brushing against Punk's with every word.

"We only have a limited amount of time until we have to leave for Raw so we better get started now," Punk said, rolling off the couch and walking towards his bedroom, losing clothes along the way.

John just watched as Punk's naked body turned the corner, savoring the sight he thought he might never get to see again. After a few moments he jumped up from the couch, clothes flying everywhere. His feet got tangled in the legs of his jeans and he hit the floor. He struggled out of the rest of his clothes and hurried to Punk's bedroom. Punk was kneeling in the center of his bed looking at John askance.

"Did you just wipe out in the hallway?"

"Embarrassingly, yes. There goes the sexy atmosphere I was trying to create."

"I'm sure if you try hard enough we can get it back, you just have to put your back into it," Punk said heatedly.

John jumped into bed with Punk, toppling them both until John was draped over Punk, frenziedly touching every bit of skin he could reach. John fused their mouths together, tongues tangling together, Punk's piercing adding to the incredible sensation that their mouths were creating.

Punk wrapped his legs around John's waist, using them to bring John's body closer to his, their hard erections sliding against each other's. Punk rolled his hips sending a shiver down John's spine, a feeling he thought he'd never get to savor again. John separated their mouths and moved his lips behind Punk's ear, sucking forcefully.

"You taste just as sweet as I remember," John whispered against Punk's skin, the movement against one of Punk's most sensitive spots making his hips arch up into John's again. John began moving his hips in time with Punk's, both men moaning at the delicious friction.

John dragged his lips down Punk's neck, fixing on the area where neck meets shoulder. Punk tilted his head to the side, giving John full reign to continue his actions. John began sucking and kissing, feeling Punk's hands stroke his sides and sink his nails into the flesh of his hips, encouraging John to move his hips at a faster pace.

"Mark me," Punk said breathlessly.

John sunk his teeth into Punk's neck and sucked the skin into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth, Punk moaning at the feel of John's mouth roughly marking his flesh. Punk cinched his thighs around John's waist, speeding up the movement of his hips. John lifted his head, a purple stain blossoming on Punk's neck. He rested his forehead on the place his mouth had just left, a feeling of euphoria rushing through him at being allowed to lay claim to Punk's body once again. He lifted his head and began kissing Punk passionately, sliding his hands under Punk's ass, squeezing his flesh firmly and tilting his hips up to increase the contact between the groins.

"John, oh god, if you keep this up I'm going to come," Punk moaned, his breath shallow.

"So come then, I'm sure I can get you up again in no time," John said smiling against Punk's mouth, grabbing hold of his hips and initiating a furious pace, their hips bones grinding against each other's, no doubt causing bruises in the aftermath.

"John, please, so close…" John cut off Punk by sealing his mouth over Punk's tangling their tongues together. Although he loved to hear Punk moan his name, he had weeks of kisses that he needed to make up for.

John stopped the movement of his hips and anchored Punk's to the bed with his hands.

"What the hell, no, movement, please," Punk strained his hips against John's hold but it was a hopeless cause. "John, please…"

"Don't worry, I'm going to take care of you," John murmured, giving Punk one last kiss, then making his way down Punk's neck, detouring to Punk's right nipple, circling it with his tongue and giving it a light tug with his teeth. He moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. John brushed his lips down Punk's midsection, stopping to dip his tongue into Punk's belly button.

"Please John, suck me off."

"Yes, Phil, yes, whatever you say," Punk heard those familiar loving words and couldn't help himself and let out a loud, guttural moan.

John rested his head on one of Punk's hip bones and stared up at Punk, his eyes a little shiny, obviously Punk delighted in hearing those words, almost as much as John was at being able to say them again. John resumed his actions after a long moment, licking along Punk's hip bone, scraping his teeth across it, and then sucking on the skin that covered it forcefully.

John lifted his head to admire the mark he had made and directed his attentions lower. He sucked the head of Punk's cock into his mouth, dipping his tongue in the slit and lapping up the fluid there. He circled his tongue around the base of the head, making sure to give extra attention to the cleft on the underside. He slowly lowered his mouth, bobbing his head slowly. Punk's hips stuttered but John was intent on dragging this out for as long as he could handle before fucking Punk raw.

"John, please, give me more."

John reached up with his hand and brushed Punk's lips with his fingertips. Punk opened his mouth, sucking three of John's fingers into his mouth and coating them with saliva.

John removed his fingers and trailed them between Punk's legs, circling Punk's hole a few times with his wet fingers before inserting two fingers into Punk. He began bobbing his head in time with the movement of his fingers. He stretched Punk, scissoring his fingers, opening Punk wider. He slid his third finger alongside the others and crooked them up, trying to hit Punk's spot. He knew he had found it when Punk practically screamed his name and his hips surged upwards, driving his cock all the way down John's throat.

John continued to hit the spot that was causing Punk to moan intelligibly, John could hear his name in there mixed with moans and whimpers. John kept deep throating Punk while thrusting his fingers, fervently trying to get Punk off.

"John, please, I'm so close…"

John began swallowing around Punk's cock and began humming lowly. That was enough for Punk whose back arched and then he was coming hard down John's throat. Punk pulled John up by his head and kissed him deeply, trying to capture the taste of himself in John's mouth. John hitched Punk's thighs around his hips, using his hand to guide himself into Punk and entering him in one hard thrust.

John began thrusting slow and deep into Punk, trying to make the moment last. When he felt Punk begin to harden again, his cocked trapped between their stomachs, he picked up speed.

"Harder John, fuck me harder."

John grabbed Punk's knees, lifting them away from his waist and easing them over his shoulders, practically folding Punk in two. The position tightened Punk's channel around his cock, practically making John's eyes roll back in his head. He started thrusting harder, picking up speed and hitting Punk's prostate with every thrust.

He could feel Punk's heart beating frantically against his chest, Punk moaning with heaving breaths.

"Oh god, John, more, please more."

John began pounding into Punk frantically, desperate to hear Punk moan his name again and again. The heat and tightness was too much for John to handle and he came hard into Punk, falling forward on Punk's chest trying to get air back into his lungs. Punk lowered his legs back around John's waist, pulling him in with arms and legs and holding his body against his. John could feel Punk's cock, still hard between them. John worked an arm loose, trailing it down Punk's side, over his hips, and between his legs, dipping his fingers into Punk's still loosened hole. He thrust his fingers gently into Punk, pulling them out, shiny with his come.

He pried Punk's arms and legs from around him and sat up. He wrapped his hand around Punk's cock, coating it in Punk's own come. John spread his legs and moved up Punk's body, kissing him softly.

"What are you…" Punk said with some confusion.

John just kissed him again, wrapping his hand around Punk's cock and holding it steady. Punk stopped breathing when he felt John sink down on his cock, stilling his hips, trying to adjust to the feeling of being filled by Punk for the first time.

John began moving his hips, sliding up and down Punk's length. Just the feeling of Punk inside him was making him harden again.

"Fuck, Phil, Oh God…"

John was cut off when Punk flipped them over, his cock still buried inside John.

Punk had a feral look in his eyes, hitching John's legs around his hips, pulling out and slamming into John powerfully. He began a punishing pace, his hand wrapping around John's length, intent on getting them both off together for the first time that night.

"Phil, fuck me harder, please, I want to feel it for days."

Punk slammed into John with so much force that the mattress began sliding up the bedframe towards the wall.

"Phil, so close, please…"

Punk thrust violently into John until he felt John's channel constrict around him, John coming between them. Punk thrust a few more times, coming deep inside John. Punk tried to roll off John, but was ensnared by John's arms and legs.

"Just stay, just a little while longer," John said, leaning up to kiss Punk softly. They kissed gently for a few minutes until John's limbs loosened and Punk rolled off to the side, resting his head on John's chest.

"That was new," Punk said softly.

"When I'm in you all I can think about is how lucky I am that you belong to me. After all that's happened, I needed to feel like I belong to you too."

"John, I love you."

"I love you too Phil."

Both men lay in bed, wrapped around each other, just content to be close again.

"As much as I enjoyed getting dirty I think we could both use a shower," Punk said, untangling from John and sitting up.

"Will there be sex in this shower?" John asked, smirking.

"Aren't you feeling especially insatiable?"

"I wouldn't bank on wearing any clothes until we leave for Raw."

"Get up you nympho and get your ass in the shower."

_AN: I know this is shorter than usual but I hadn't updated in a while so I thought I'd throw you guys something. My creative process: watch a little Smackdown, hang a couple ornaments, write a few paragraphs. Enjoy this completely Hardy free chapter because I guarantee the next couple won't be, unfortunately._


	16. Chapter 16

**October 30, 2011**

"Our flight to Atlanta for Raw leaves early tomorrow morning, I guess we can't put this Jeff Hardy conversation off for any longer," Punk said sadly.

"Can't we just call in sick?"

"John Cena wants to call in sick? I'm amazed. Unfortunately the WWE pays us to wrestle, not to fuck each other's brains out. Don't you want to see the Muppets?"

"If it meant being able to avoid Jeff Hardy and you putting on clothes, I would AA Kermit the Frog."

"I know we just got back together but I don't think I can date someone who performed their finishing maneuver on a hand puppet. Don't think you can escape this conversation by threatening violence against felt. Did you tell Hardy that we were together?"

"Never."

"I don't think he would have been quite so motivated to turn us against each other if he thought we were only friends, someone must have told him, god only knows who."

"Don't forget that time in Puerto Rico when that couple figured out we were together just by watching us on TV. Hardy might have picked up on it just by watching a few episodes of Raw."

"While I would usually say that the drugs have made Jeff Hardy highly unlikely to be called perceptive, the little shit has obviously proven that he is, playing us off each other like that. Once Hardy sees that he's failed in splitting us up for good and his chances of getting you back are nil, who knows what he's going to do. I have a feeling we have a very uncomfortable situation ahead of us that involves the entire roster finding out and gawking at us shamelessly."

"Maybe not. I'll have a little chat with him. Usually I would leave the threats up to you, but we send you in there and he'll out us just to spite you. As much as it pains me to say it, we should probably keep up the act that we're still broken up, at least until I can threaten him properly."

"John Cena handling the dirty work and concocting a devious plan, that's a new one," Punk said laughingly. His cell phone started to ring and he frowned at the unfamiliar number. "Hello…Oh hey, how's the injury?...You could be dead…what's the message?...I truly hate that man…Thanks for the head's up…Bye."

"Who in the world was that? I have a theory but it's too outlandish for it to be true."

"It was Hunter."

"I thought it might be. Since when are you two phone buddies?"

"We had a heart to heart at a bus stop in the middle of the night."

"Fine, don't tell me then. What did he want?"

"To pass on a message."

"From who?"

"Stephanie."

"Stephanie McMahon is sending you messages through Triple H? You might as well just let Vince adopt you; you're so in with the family now."

"Stop, I'm going to hyperventilate from the mere thought of that."

"What was the message?"

"Laurinaitis just gave the website guys an update, and since Stephanie is over them she thought she'd warn me before it hits the net. Apparently our GM has decided to give me a title match at Survivor Series if I can beat Mark Henry on Raw."

"Not to knock your abilities, but I don't think you're going to be able to GTS Mark Henry."

"I know my limits. There's a hilarious and very popular YouTube video of me trying to GTS Kane and practically folding in half attempting it. If I can get him off his feet I can get him to submit, no problem."

"Speaking of submission that was quite a match you had on Smackdown with Hardy. I thought you might have killed him at one point."

"He deserved everything he got."

"I'm not denying that. I was giggling like a schoolgirl when you kept slapping him across the face to revive him after you had choked him into unconsciousness."

"Now that we're talking business, have you gone absolutely insane?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Of all the people on the roster to team with you pick the Rock? You're 50 times more likely to see a Rock Bottom than Miz or Truth."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm sure we're going to get one of the Rock's periodic videos tomorrow night with a response that includes a lot of humiliating comments directed at me to delight the audience. God forbid he shows up in person or anything."

"This is why we can't break up ever again; someone has to save you from yourself."

**October 31, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

John walked into the arena and found his locker room. He put his things into a cubicle but didn't bother unpacking his stuff. Soon enough his stalker walked into the locker room, taking his usual spot next to him.

"Come with me, we need to talk," grabbing Hardy by the arm and leading him through the maze of the backstage area until he found an empty hallway and led Hardy to the back.

"John, what do we have to talk about that requires you dragging me into an out of the way hallway?" Hardy said with a smile, invading John's personal space.

"Back the hell up. You're going to leave Punk and me alone and you're going to keep your mouth shut about our relationship."

"Oh, did he take you back? That took a lot longer than I thought it would, he's a real bitch isn't he. I hope you two are ready for your relationship to become common knowledge," Hardy said with a sadistic smile.

"You won't be telling anyone anything. If I even hear the hint of a rumor about Punk and me you're going to find yourself unemployed again."

"How do you think you're going to accomplish that?"

"You out us and I'll go straight to the doc and tell him that I saw you shooting up. You'll be peeing into a cup before Raw is over."

"That's a lie!"

"I know it is, and I could care less," John could tell by the look of Hardy's face that any drug test would come back positive.

"You should really reevaluate your relationship; you were never a liar before."

"Maybe not, but I would do anything for Punk."

"He is not worth it, can't you see that!"

"You are definitely not the judge of anything involving Punk and I. You are going to back the hell off and keep your mouth shut!"

"30 days off won't kill me."

"You've been fired for drug use once already. Another positive a few weeks after being rehired, you're going to be out on your ass on the first offense. I'm done with you."

John walked away, back towards the locker room. When he entered he spied Punk next to Randy and dragged his luggage across the room to take the spot next to Punk.

"I thought we were avoiding each other?" Punk whispered.

"I didn't really feel like spending any more unnecessary time apart. I talked to Hardy; we'll just have to see if he has the slightest sense of self-preservation. Plus, I really missed your hilarious commentary during Raw."

"So I see you two have patched things up and if that's what you missed about Punk I worry about your sanity," Randy said, rolling his eyes.

"Do you really want to hear about what John missed most about me," Punk said, smirking at Randy.

The so-called Viper visibly paled, "Please god, anything but a play-by-play of your sex life."

"Stop mocking my superior wit then."

A road agent stuck his head in the door, "Punk, your match is up first, after the Rock, you should get to the arena entrance soon."

"Wait, the Rock is here?" Evan shouted from the back of the room.

"No, he sent in a video."

"A video, color me unsurprised, he's probably walking a red carpet somewhere, too busy to bother with us," John said sarcastically while the road agent walked around the room, informing the roster of the various matches booked for the night.

"John, you'll be facing the Miz in the main event," the agent said leaving the locker room.

The roster began to dress, but soon enough everyone was watching Punk as he finished dressing.

"What are you wearing?" Randy said to Punk, staring as if Punk had suddenly lost his mind.

"It's a shirt from one of my favorite movies, "Big Trouble in Little China."

"It's hideous," Randy said turning to John, "I believe this belongs to you," Randy scoffed turning to John and pointing at Punk.

"Yes it does, for numerous reasons that do not involve his fashion sense."

"Back together for a few days and already with the jokes, see if I put out later tonight. I'm going to go get my match at Survivor Series," Punk said, leaving the locker room.

John and Randy finished dressing and then took their seats in the monitor bay.

"Does he have a plan that does not include him being inducted into the Hall of Pain?"

"He's CM Punk, there's always a plan of some sort," John said proudly. "Let's see what the Rock has oh so graciously sent me in response to my request."

John watched as the Rock tore him apart on the screen. He could hear the laughter from the arena, which was only added to by the snickering in the monitor bay from the roster.

"Hey, you asked for this," Randy said, unable to control his laughter.

"I know, Phil is going to be impossible tonight. Instead of sex I'm probably going to get a comedic reenactment of this video clip."

No one was more shocked than John when the Rock agreed to be his tag team partner.

"Congratulations, you now have the world's most untrustworthy tag team partner now. After you're the recipient of the People's Elbow at Survivor Series I hope you think things through a little more next time."

"He said yes, that's all that matters. Look, Punk's on his way out," John said, still mystified by his boyfriend's choice of ring attire.

Punk made his way out followed by Mark Henry. Punk seemed to be holding his own during the opening minutes of the match.

"What is del Rio and Rodriguez doing out there?" John said angrily. He watched as del Rio seemed to be coercing Rodriguez into doing something he obviously didn't want to do. Randy and John watched as Rodriguez jumped in the ring and started beating Mark Henry with, of all things, his shoe.

"That's a foreign object I've never seen used before…" Randy was cut off by the ringside bell, the official disqualifying Punk for outside interference.

"Phil is going to be livid," John said, watching as Punk pummeled del Rio, who ran away, and then Punk sadistically threw Rodriguez to Mark Henry who was the recipient of the World's Strongest Slam.

John waited for Punk to pass by the monitor bay but he never came. John found out why when Punk appeared on the screen storming into Laurinaitis' office. Punk protested about being screwed out of his Championship match, along with delivering a host of derisive insults to the Raw GM. John was just as confused as the rest of the roster when Laurinaitis told Punk that as long as del Rio agreed, Punk could have his match at Survivor Series. John saw the futility of this but Punk had a devious grin on his face. John really wasn't the best schemer in the WWE and had no idea what his boyfriend had concocted so swiftly to deal with the situation.

John watched as Punk made his way past the monitor bay, motioning to the locker room with his head, John assuming Punk was going to shower and change into his street clothes. Punk showed up a little while later, still in his gear but with his much more acceptable Best in the World t-shirt on.

"If you didn't shower, where were you?" John asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I had to take a meeting."

"What are you up to?"

"You'll see, it's one of my most ingenious plans yet."

"I don't think I'd want to be del Rio right now."

"No you would not."

They watched the show together; John's thoughts mainly on how much he had missed Punk's clever commentary over the past weeks. John had long ago told Punk that he made this place fun, and John now knew how true that was. That and the fact that Jeff Hardy was all the way across the room, sitting alone. The roster wasn't exactly thrilled that Hardy's particular brand of toxic was back in the WWE.

John looked at Punk with confusion as he stood up when the match between the Big Show and del Rio started.

"Where are you going?"

"To get my title match," Punk said simply and walked towards the arena entrance.

John watched as the Big Show knocked del Rio out with one punch. The Big Show made his way up the ramp, leaving del Rio unconscious in the ring. As the Big Show neared the arena entrance Punk's music cued up. As Big Show and Punk passed each other, they nodded. This must have been Punk's meeting, enlisting Big Show to leave del Rio defenseless in the ring so that Punk could somehow extort his title match. John was a little hazy on how del Rio was supposed to agree to anything when he was knocked out.

Punk went to ringside, grabbing a mic and a bottle of water. He took a seat next to del Rio's unconscious body, and then threw the water in his face, reviving him. John watched, amazed, when Punk locked in the Anaconda Vise on del Rio until he agreed to Punk's title match. He was sure that this wasn't what Laurinaitis had intended when he gave Punk the stipulation, but Punk had found a way around Laurinaitis yet again.

Punk came back to the monitor bay, as proud as if he had won the Championship already.

"You plotted with the Big Show?"

"I asked him to throw a little WMD del Rio's way, the rest was a cakewalk. I'm going to actually shower and change this time, I'll be back before your match."

Randy was returning from the locker room and passed Punk on his way out, mystified by Punk's happy demeanor.

"I was in the locker room for not even a half an hour, what the hell did I miss?"

John relayed Punk's conniving actions in the ring.

"He gets more and more underhanded every day. Unfortunately that doesn't erase the fact that he went out to the ring in that god awful tank top."

"Oh, shut it and watch the show."

Punk eventually came back to the monitor bay just as John was leaving for his match.

"Watch your back, I haven't seen Truth around all night," Randy warned John as he was getting up.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the arena entrance," Punk said. They walked about halfway there when Punk grabbed his arm, halting their progress.

"What…" and John watched as Punk opened the door to his left, stuck his head in and pulled John in behind him, closing the door and pushing John up against it. Punk began kissing John enthusiastically, slipping his hands under John's shirt, running his nails lightly over John's sides. John turned his head, but Punk just started kissing his neck instead.

"Are you trying to send me to the ring with a hard on?"

"Of course not, take off your pants," Punk said lowering his hands to John's belt buckle.

John reluctantly pushed Punk away, "I have a match."

"Come on, you're John Cena, they'll hold the show for you, I'm sure Miz can talk for ten minutes or so," Punk said, stepping close again.

John was conflicted for the briefest of moments before he grabbed Punk, pulling him into his body and kissing him wildly for a minute or so.

"Enough," John said pushing Punk away halfheartedly, "You are so in for it when we get back to the hotel. You still remember how to sneak to my hotel room, right?"

"Hiding around corners and behind potted plants, yeah I remember the drill."

"Excellent," John went to leave but Punk blocked the door. "The faster I get out there and beat Miz the faster we can resume this," John said, running his thumb over Punk's reddened lips.

"Fine. Kick ass and be quick about it," Punk said while John left the room, Punk smacking him on the ass on the way out.

John made his way to the arena entrance, thinking all matter of horrible things trying to bring his half-hard erection under control. When he entered the arena he knew he had a completely inappropriate smile on his face considering the circumstances.

John defeated Miz, even after Truth impersonated a costumed fan and interfered. John put them both down with the AA, eager to return to Punk. When he passed the monitor bay it was emptying. He saw Randy and walked up to him, "Where's Punk?"

"He said he was heading back to the hotel and to text him when you get to your room. Go shower quick. I'll wait for you and we can catch a cab back to the hotel.

John walked down the hotel hallway with Randy, still wondering where Punk had gone off to. John slid his card into the lock, opening the door and then slamming it shut with himself still in the hallway.

"What was that?"

"Night Randy, enjoy the Smackdown leg of the European tour."

"Seriously, what was that?" John watched as Randy sized-up the situation and a look of pain came over his face.

"You get back together and become sex fiends?"

"We were already…"

"Enough. Just try to keep it down; thankfully I'm next door for only one night."

"You're just jealous. You'll be watching badly dubbed episodes of Law & Order while I'll be getting laid all over the European Union."

"Granted. Now scamper off to your room before your boy toy gets impatient."

John quickly opened his hotel room door and Punk was just as he had left him a minute ago, laid out on his stomach on the bed, completely naked.

"Do you know Randy almost saw you?"

"We all dress in the same locker room, I'm sure Randy's seen me naked lots of times."

"Thank you for putting that idea into my head. Next time we're in the locker room I'll have to hold a towel around you while you dress so no one can ogle you but me. And Randy may have seen you naked but not spread out on a bed like some sort of wet dream."

"Wet dream indeed. Are you going to just look or are you going to do something about it?" Punk asked seductively.

John began stripping off his clothes and making his way to Punk, "How did you get in anyway?" John asked, his voice muffled by the shirt he was pulling over his head.

"You never took my name off the room."


	17. Chapter 17

**November 1, 2011**

Punk and John, running on a very limited amount of sleep, boarded the jet chartered by the WWE for the European Tour. There were only a handful of people from the roster on the plane that would be wrestling in the house shows. They had boarded the plane 45 minutes ago but they were still waiting in the gate. The road agents were huddled together in the front of the plane, having what seemed to be a very heated conversation. Eventually they closed the plane door and the plane took off for the long flight to Ireland.

After they reached cruising altitude Sheamus started making the rounds, planning a bar hopping excursion in his hometown of Dublin after they landed before the 1st house show the next day. Sheamus invited John and extended the invitation to Punk as a courtesy.

"Feel free to go bar hopping with the boys, but if you come back plastered don't except me to hold your dog tags back when you're throwing your guts up."

"Maybe I'll go out for a drink or two so I don't seem anti-social, but I would much rather spend the night with you. I plan to leave a trail of very disheveled beds as we tour Europe."

"We'll be in some of the most beautiful cities in the world and you're only concerned with what goes on in our hotel room."

"I'm only concerned with what goes on with you inside our hotel room."

"I'd like to be able to walk without a limp by the time this tour is finished. I'll be right back; I'm going to the bathroom."

Punk walked to the back of the plane where the road agents were sequestered, laptops opened and engaging in furious conversation. Punk could hear their conversation from the bathroom.

"This is what we'll do. Make the US Championship a Triple Threat Match between Kingston, Ziggler and Ryder and have Morrison team with Cena instead of Ryder."

"That sounds fine to me. This is all Laurinaitis' fault. He knew damn well how unreliable he was when he hired him back. Looks like the time away did absolutely nothing to improve his work ethic."

Punk exited the bathroom and took stock of the members of the roster who were present only to confirm what he had already gleaned from the conversation he overheard. He took his seat next to John.

"Did you notice who's not on the plane?"

"Who?"

"Jeff Hardy. Apparently that was the hold-up, he no-showed for the flight. The road agents are tearing their hair out in the back of the plane trying to switch things around to put together a card without his irresponsible ass. On the bright side, we'll have a blessedly Hardy free week. They moved Zack to the US Championship match and you'll be teaming with Morrison instead against Truth and Miz."

"It's you and del Rio, right?"

"Yeah. I can only hope that I'm not a victim of a drive-by footwear attack. I'm exhausted; you wore me out last night. Wake me when we get to Dublin," and Punk leaned his head against the window, passing out minutes later.

Punk awoke and looked down to see that the pressure on his chest was John's head, fast asleep. Punk moved John back into his seat. No doubt, everyone on the roster now had a picture in their phone of him and John cuddled up together to use as ammunition in the future. Punk checked his watch; they still had an hour or so left in the flight. Punk spent the time staring out the window and trying to keep John in his seat even though he seemed to prefer Punk's chest as a pillow.

They finally landed and Punk woke John up who seemed highly reluctant to move from his position. They roster boarded a van that took them to their hotel. Punk and John had resumed their routine of rooming together. They didn't bother unpacking because the tour had them in a different city everyday with no days off between house shows.

Sheamus eventually called round for John with a select group of roster members trailing behind.

John left for his pub crawl and Punk clicked on the television. Even though it was in English Punk had no idea what was going on or even what they were saying in their heavily accented English. He zoned out for a few hours until he heard someone trying to open the hotel door. He let this go on for a minute until he relented and let a tipsy John into the room.

John stumbled in the door, draping his entire weight on Punk. He dragged John's dead weight to the bed and tossed John onto it.

"A few drinks, huh?"

"It was Sheamus' fault. He said since we were in Ireland we had to drink whiskey. I only had a few!"

"You're just a lightweight. Let me get you some aspirin and water."

Punk retrieved the items and walked back to the bed. He was again surprised by John's drunken agility when he John reached out and tackled him to the bed, wrapping himself around his body. John started sloppily kissing the back of Punk's neck, "Oh Philly, I love you so much."

Punk just rolled his eyes. He would excuse that horrible endearment for now but if John uttered that name in a sober state he was likely to punch his boyfriend in the mouth. Punk managed to push John off him.

"You need a shower."

"I don't feel like it."

"Well, you smell like a barroom. You can either not shower and sleep alone and shower and sleep with me."

"Oh course I want to sleep with you Philly, I'll go take a shower," and John pulled himself out the bed and walked to the bathroom only stumbling once. Punk kept an ear out for John in case he wiped out in the shower. John eventually finished his shower and crawled into bed with him. John draped himself over Punk and began kissing him; John had at least remembered to brush his teeth.

They were making out like eager teenagers when John made his way to Punk's neck, kissing every bit of skin he could find, but abruptly the kisses stopped. He could feel John's even breathing against his neck. He looked down only to find John asleep. Punk just shook his head, shifted John's weight off him and let him sleep it off.

Punk awoke to find John staring at him, "I am so sorry Phil, god, this is so embarrassing."

"I'll excuse it as long as you never call me Philly again."

"Come on, it's so cute."

"Call me that again and you're going to get very familiar with your left hand."

**November 6, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

The roster arrived in Liverpool to tape Raw on Sunday so that it would air on Monday in the US. The tour had taken them to Ireland, France and a few cities in England. The roster was pretty strung out after consecutive house shows and running on a bare amount of sleep. A few members of the roster had been flown in especially for Raw, one of those people being Jeff Hardy. The road agents made no secret of the complete lack of respect that had for Hardy, being welcomed back to Raw after he had almost screwed up the first leg of the European Tour.

The tour had been exactly what he expected. John and Morrison beating Miz and Truth while Punk had to deal with del Rio constantly getting disqualified due to interference by Rodriguez which led to Truth and Miz taking out their loserness on him with John and Morrison making the save and then they preceded to clear out the ring.

The only upside of his clusterfuck of matches with del Rio was that he was getting more adept at keeping track of Rodriguez while still managing to outwrestle del Rio. He hadn't perfected the skill just yet but hopefully it would come in handy at Survivor Series.

John and Punk arrived at the arena and made their way to their assigned locker room. There was a distinct lack of socializing as the roster was exhausted from the tour. A road agent eventually entered the locker room, disturbing Punk who was trying to achieve the art of standing up while sleeping. He could have stayed that way when he was informed that Laurinaitis had not scheduled him in a match or any segment whatsoever. When the road agent moved on to Kofi he overheard that he would be facing del Rio tonight. He immediately turned around and started to change; just because he wasn't scheduled for a match didn't mean that he couldn't involve himself in someone else's.

The agent finally made his way to John, informing him that he would be opening the show, responding to the Rock being on Raw next week. He was also scheduled for a tag match against Miz and Truth with a partner of his choice.

"Why are you getting dressed? You're not scheduled for anything. If you're not wrestling I would much prefer if you would keep your clothes on and not run around practically naked for everyone to leer at," John asked as he intently watched Punk undress.

"You should know better than anyone that I make my own fun."

"Can't you at least do it in a parka or something?"

"It's not like I'm going to go out to ringside and let the fans stuff dollar bills down my trunks or anything."

"I don't think it would endear me to the fans if I kept slapping the grabby-handed women, and probably a couple of men, from trying to get anywhere near your ass. I like to consider that my property."

"Even though it gets me all hot and bothered when you get possessive I don't think dragging you off to a storage room is going to help you much in your current situation."

"What do you mean?"

"If you stopped staring at my ass and started listening to people when they talk you would know that you have to go find yourself a tag partner for tonight. Considering your current streak of choosing the worst tag team partners possible lately, you should probably get going and find the most untalented person here."

"I've already got someone in mind; I just have to ask them. You probably won't approve Mr. Best in the World, but it's me that will be tagging with them and not you."

"That doesn't sound comforting at all. Am I going to have to come out there and save you from your terrible decision making tonight?"

"I'll be fine, you'll see."

"Since I'm dressed and all you've accomplished is staring at my ass, I'm going to go find Melina while you get dressed. Morrison said she was flying up so that she could travel with him for the rest of the tour, god forbid they schedule her in a match or anything," Punk said, leaving to go track Melina down.

The monitor bay was empty, so he headed to the women's locker room and banged on the door, "Can Melina come out and play," Punk shouted at the closed door. It opened and he was greeted by the Bella twins.

"We'll come out and play with you Punk," the twins said sultrily, having no idea that they were barking up the entirely wrong tree, and were risking the wrath of one John Cena.

"I don't think Punk wants to go make an incestuous sex tape right now, nice try though," Melina pushed the twins out the way and stepped into the hallway, linking her arm with Punk's. She led him down the hall and away from the locker room.

"Look who it is. You don't call, you don't write. I had to find out from my man that you and John had patched things up and gotten back together."

"I didn't want to talk about it in case things went to hell, and then there was the making up part."

"Ooh, tell me more about this make-up sex. I deserve some details after being kept out of the loop."

"Nice try, but no details for you."

"I have a particularly vivid imagination."

"I'm sure your boyfriend would be thrilled to know that you spend your time fantasizing about John and me."

"John and I have a very special relationship, he's very understanding and probably kinkier than you and John put together."

"Great. Now I have that thought stuck in my mind, thanks a lot. You certainly came a long way just to see John."

"Yeah, he's so bummed out by this losing streak he's on. The only win he's had was against Jeff Hardy, but other than that he keeps coming up short. I don't know how much longer this can go on before he loses it. Look, the monitor bay is filling up, let's go stake out a prime location so that we can mock effectively," Melina said, pulling Punk toward some empty seats in the front.

Punk looked over the assembled roster and froze.

"I'll be right back. I have to make a phone call," Punk walked a ways down the hallway and dialed a number from his call history. He refused to put a name to the number in his contact list because that would make this strange friendship actually real.

"Hey, guess who's sitting in the monitor bay right now?...Kevin Nash…I'd put money on the fact that Laurinaitis probably offered him a contract like you requested…Do you want me to go rough him up, because I really wouldn't mind that…Fine, keep all the fun to yourself, I'll keep my distance…the show's about to start, I'm sure we'll get an explanation before the night is out…bye."

"What was that all about?" Melina asked, obviously intrigued by the fact that Punk had wandered off to make a secretive phone call. "You got another man on the side?"

"Yes, that's exactly it," Punk said, the hilarity of Melina's statement making him crack up on the inside.

"Speaking of more things I'm not privy to, what's the deal with Hardy. He seems pretty lonely sitting back there alone and I haven't heard any hint of a rumor about you and John."

"John said something to him, I don't know what and I don't care, as long as he keeps his distance and his mouth shut."

"Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts."

They turned their attention to the monitor as the show started and John made his way to the ring

"Wow. The British crowds seem to dislike him even more than the American ones. How in the world does he stand it?"

"He acts like it doesn't bother him but I know it has to be getting to him. I was perfectly happy to be booed out of the building when I was acting maliciously but they seem to hate John because he's too nice."

"Knowing you, I'm not sure how you handle the perpetual niceness; it doesn't really seem like your type of thing."

"It wasn't at first, but his goodness grows on you and no one, not even John Cena, can be nice all the time," Punk said, looking at Melina who was smirking at him. "That wasn't supposed to be a sexual innuendo, get your mind out of the gutter woman."

Punk watched as John was his usual jovial self, even in the face of all that hatred. "You know, John has a point. I don't understand why then fans are so beside themselves to see the Rock return. The man disappeared from the WWE for 7 years so he could go make movies where he had to dress in a tutu. I'm surprised he found time in his busy red carpet life to come on Raw next week."

"But he's the Rock," Melina said, much more impressed by the man than Punk.

"Eh, I've always been a Stone Cold man personally. Now if Austin was coming back I'd be out in the parking lot with a sign along with the rest of the fans."

"Really, cause your Twitter feud says otherwise."

"That's just for fun, not like Jericho. I seriously cannot stand that guy."

"He's probably just pissed that you're infringing on his gimmick."

"I'm not infringing on anything. I'm the best wrestler in the world. He's just the best in the world at what he does. Does is a very broad term. He could have been talking about his prowess at ballroom dancing or being a substandard rock star."

"One day he's just going to pop out from around a corner and then you'll have to settle things in a way that takes more than 140 characters."

"This pointless Jericho talk is distracting me from John and I really can't wait to hear what wrestler with highly questionable talent he has chosen to be his tag partner."

John identified his partner as a future hall of famer, but then Miz and Truth interrupted him, needing five minutes just to come around to the point that they planned to beat John tonight. They surrounded John in the ring, only to have Ryder come out to even the odds and chased Miz and Truth back up the ramp.

Melina and Punk just looked at each other and shook their heads; obviously they had a very different definition than John of what constituted a future hall of famer.

John made his way back to the monitor bay and took the empty seat next to Punk.

"What no comment on my choice of partner?"

Punk just shook his head silently.

"John's up next against Ziggler. Hopefully he gets a win or any hope of me getting laid tonight goes right out the window. He's not exactly feeling like the Shaman of Sexy these days."

Punk and John looked at Melina askance, hoping that she wouldn't elaborate beyond that.

After a very back and forth match, Morrison managed to pull out the win, Melina jumped from her seat.

"Yes!"

"Please, for the love of god woman, find an empty room somewhere for you and your boyfriend to celebrate his win. Don't bring him back here, no matter how much you too enjoy making a sexual exhibition."

Melina just smirked at Punk over her shoulder and she walked away towards the arena entrance area.

They watched the show on the monitors, Punk interjecting comments as the show progressed.

Del Rio made his entrance to take on Kofi and Punk stood up and started to leave.

"Where are you going?" John asked, already knowing the answer.

"To have a little fun with del Rio, I'm sure the opportunity will present itself," and he walked toward the arena entrance.

Punk watched as del Rio took on Kofi, eventually making him tap to the cross arm breaker, but not letting go of the hold once the match was over. He wasn't exactly the white knight type but it seemed as good a time as any to aggravate del Rio. Punk had the tech cue up his music. When he entered the arena, del Rio had already let Kofi out of the hold. He made his way into the ring, not bothering to get a mic for himself; he could make del Rio look just a foolish with his sarcastic facial expressions as he could with words. Del Rio became more and more annoyed as he tried to speak over the CM Punk chants.

Laurinaitis had passed on a message to del Rio through Otunga that he could ask Punk to cancel the match. Punk sure as hell wasn't going to do that just based on the fact that the request had come from Laurinaitis. Del Rio threatened to force him to cancel the match, but del Rio could throw every submission maneuver in the book and he still would not consent to the cancellation of his Championship match.

Punk grabbed a mic from ringside and proceeded to thoroughly humiliate del Rio, spending extra time on how utterly boring del Rio was. Del Rio asked one more time for him to cancel the match but of course his answer was no. Del Rio didn't seem to appreciate that, hitting Punk in the head with a mic. Del Rio tried to lock in the cross arm breaker but Punk reversed it into the Anaconda Vise briefly before Rodriguez started beating on him. Del Rio abandoned Rodriguez in the ring to be the victim of a particularly brutal GTS. Punk stood with one foot on the middle rope and the other on Rodriguez's back, watching as del Rio stood at the top of the ramp holding his arm. Punk just took a seat in the ring and smirked. That should teach Laurinaitis what would happen when he left Punk to his own devices instead of booking him in a match.

Punk made his way backstage and retook his seat next to John.

"You know, del Rio isn't just going to take what happened lying down, you completely degraded the guy" John said hesitantly.

"Are you worried I might have hurt del Rio's feelings?"

"The guy is gonna want retribution for what you did to him out in the ring."

"Why do you think I'm not changing, I'm ready for any eventuality," Punk raised his eyebrow as Ryder took the seat on John's other side.

"I'm sticking close tonight; don't want a repeat of last week. You guys need to sign my petition."

Punk took out his phone that was in his shorts he had left on the seat before he left to terrorize del Rio. He just started hitting random buttons, hoping that would placate Ryder into silence.

When Nash came out to the ring Punk was seething but he had agreed to let Hunter deal with Nash on his own. He would have to content himself with all the times he had completely outpaced Nash on the mic. Even with no competition Nash was still boring as hell. Hunter could have him.

Ryder wouldn't shut up. He needed a break before he said something John wouldn't appreciate, "I'm going get a Pepsi from catering, I'll be back in a sec."

When Punk approached catering he saw Laurinaitis with Otunga. This night was really working out in his favor. He mocked Laurinaitis and Otunga for the failure of their little plan. Like he would really just politely walk away from a Championship match. Otunga had the balls to smirk at him, saying he looked like he worked in a gas station. This night was just getting better and better. Punk leveled Otunga, following him to the ground and throwing punches until he felt himself lifted off his feet and he was thrown through the catering table.

He laid there stunned as del Rio started stomping on him while he was down. The officials managed to pull del Rio off him. Punk just laid there until John appeared in his eye line, taking his hand and helping him up.

"Don't say a thing. I'm going to the locker room and wash the contents of the catering table off me."

"You're going to miss my match."

"I thought you were on after Hardy and Evan?"

"A road agent just came up to me and said that they moved the match up, no idea why."

"Well, I'm not going to sit in the monitor bay with popcorn stuck in my hair."

"I have to go meet Zack at the arena entrance, try not to get into any more trouble in the next twenty or so minutes," and John left for his match.

Punk was glad when John left. He was so fucking pissed off god knows what he would have said if the conversation had continued. Heading to the locker room was probably for the best because the next person he came in contact with was going to get the tongue lashing of a lifetime.

Punk stalked back to the locker room. Rounding a corner, he was almost mowed down. He opened his mouth to yell but saw it was the doctor and just let him pass wordlessly. The doc took off down the hallway with his bag in tow. Punk walked to the monitor bay worriedly, but John's match was on the screen so he was definitely okay. He continued to the locker room for a much needed shower.

Punk exited the shower only to see John enter the locker room, slamming the door behind him. Punk just waited for John to speak in his own time.

"Truth held my legs down so I couldn't kick out, Miz pinned me. Fuck!"

"Go take a shower, I'll wait for you and then we can get the hell out of this arena before we get screwed any more than we already have been."

After John had showered they made their way out of the practically deserted arena and headed back to the hotel. They took the elevator to the floor that the roster's rooms were on and were faced with pretty much every single one of their co-worker's huddled in the hallway.

"Oh this doesn't look good," John said worriedly.

"Let's just go to out room and ignore this little pow wow."

"What if someone's hurt or something," and John made his way to the group.

"Such a fucking boy scout."

_AN: Sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth but real life has been kicking my ass lately. Finally felt a little creative again and managed to get out a new chapter. Enjoy!_


	18. Chapter 18

John and Punk approached the assembled group. John made his way towards Ryder but Punk looked around for a more reliable source of information. He spotted Melina on the other side of the hallway and made his way to her. While weaving through his co-workers he could overhear bits of conversation, the name Jeff Hardy jumping out at him.

"Do I even want to know what's going on," Punk asked, standing at Melina's side.

"It's nothing you're going to be even slightly surprised at."

"Out with it."

"Apparently when it was getting close to the time for Bourne's match against Hardy the guy was nowhere to be found. A couple road agents started searching the backstage area looking for him. They found him passed out in a bathroom. They rushed the doc to the bathroom and he was able to revive him but Hardy was completely out of his head, high on god knows what. Laurinaitis was apparently going to let him go to the ring like that but the doc and the road agents took a stand and refused to let him go out there. They would probably all be out of a job except one of the agents called McMahon and Laurinaitis was on the line with him for quite a while. McMahon has done some crazy things in his time but he would never let someone go out to the ring in that condition."

"Jesus Christ, every time I think I've got his stupidity gauged he finds something new to lower him even more in my estimation and he didn't have very far to fall."

He looked over the crowd to find John. He was standing next to Ryder still but the look of John's face had him moving quickly to his side. He couldn't pinpoint the emotion that John was feeling but it was obvious that he needed to get him out of that hallway. He grabbed John by the bicep, practically dragging him to their room, quickly pushing him in and closing the door.

John pulled his arm out of Punk's grip and walked to the other side of the room.

"What's wrong," Punk asked delicately, not sure how to handle John in his current state of mind which was completely foreign to him. "Don't tell me you feel guilty."

John remained silent.

"Did you forget that he had a hand in keeping us apart for weeks, that he has a well-documented case of drug abuse. He did what he did tonight completely on his own. Did you make him Laurinaitis' stooge, drag him into the bar every night, make him no-show for the European tour, or give him whatever he was on tonight at the arena?"

"No, but…"

"But nothing. You are in no way responsible for what he did. People get threatened all the time in the WWE; it's not an office job for crying out loud. You don't see anyone else passing out in a bathroom do you? I'm not going to let you blame yourself for just trying to protect our relationship."

"You don't understand…"

"You're right I don't. I'm going to the bathroom." Punk went into the bathroom and stayed in there for quite a while. When he finally returned to the bedroom the lights were out and John was already in bed. He didn't question whether John was faking sleep or not. He couldn't make John feel differently than he did because he wasn't upset in the slightest that Hardy had hopefully exited from their lives.

**November 11, 2011**

Punk was physically and mentally exhausted. The tour had taken him to various cities in England and Scotland. The daily matches were wearing on him. He had faced del Rio at every house show, the matches typically ended with disqualification due to interference by Rodriguez. The change was the aftermath of those matches. Where del Rio typically attacked him with kicks and punches, his new MO was the application on the cross arm breaker. His shoulder was in pain constantly over the past week but he was careful not to show it. He was going into Raw with a beat down body with the expectation that he could expect more of the same from del Rio. The only bright spot in all this was that there were no scheduled house shows between Raw and Survivor Series so he would have time to recover before his match for the Championship.

While he was no fan of being locked in del Rio's submission maneuver he was starting to resent the rest of the roster. Several of his co-workers, including John, would run to his rescue, causing del Rio to break the hold. There were even two occasions that Eve had run out to assist. His honor was being defended by divas now. Instead of being thankful of being aided by his friends, all he could see was that it made him look weak, something that he could not afford heading into the pay per view. He could handle the pain and was an adept enough wrestler to break or reverse the hold eventually but he was never given the chance to try.

All this was making him moody as hell and practically incapable of handling John after the Hardy incident. There was no word that he had been released but he had been sent home from Europe. He felt John's guilt over the matter was completely misplaced. No matter what John's actions had been Hardy was completely responsible for his own foolish and self-destructive behavior. Even from an ocean away Hardy was screwing up his relationship.

He also knew that John was absolutely dreading Raw. He would be face to face with the Rock for the first time in quite a while. The confrontation also taking place in his home town, a place that had never been very kind to him. He was going to be booed out of the building while having his own tag team partner most probably humiliating him on top of everything else.

The mood in their hotel room over the past week had been uncomfortable and mostly silent. When John had voiced his plans to head back to Tampa after landing in the states, Punk had made no plans to follow him there. No amount of Punk's cajoling could change John's frame of mind, this he knew. He didn't think that the separation was the best thing for either of them, but at this point he couldn't devise a better option.

**November 14, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

Punk walked into the arena absolutely dreading what was going to take place that night. He was in no mood to deal with Raw being devoted mostly to the Rock, the fair weathered WWE colleague that he was. He was also somewhat apprehensive to see John. While he had gotten quite a few phone calls from Tampa, very little of substance was actually exchanged. Punk walked into the locker room and took his usual place next to John. John turned to face him and gave him a smile but Punk could tell that it was mostly forced. A road agent entered the locker room but he didn't seem to have anything for either of them. John was no doubt being saved for a confrontation with the Rock and Punk was used to being at the incompetent mercy of Laurinaitis. Both men went through the motions of their usual routine of getting dressed. Punk turned to make his way to the monitor bay but John grabbed his bicep.

"I think we need to talk."

Punk just nodded and followed John out of the locker room and down the hall until they found an empty room.

"We need to talk about this Jeff Hardy thing."

"Listen, I know you feel guilty…"

"You're right, I do feel guilty, but not in the way that you think."

"What do you mean?"

"I was partly responsible for what happened; I threatened to end his career, not to mention gleefully watching while you practically choked him to death. I feel guilty because I don't feel guilty in the slightest. I'm glad he's gone. I'm impatiently waiting for the morning I wake up and find out he's been future endeavored. I'm a horrible person."

"You're not horrible, you're human. You don't have to be perfect all the time; I'd have gotten bored with you a long time ago if you were. I love you, even your bad qualities. I'd be pretty hypocritical if I didn't considering I have more than enough bad qualities for both of us."

"Only you can make me feel good about being despicable."

"That's what I'm here for."

They took their places in the monitor bay and were joined by Randy who didn't seem to be in the mood for conversation.

The show began with the asinine Michael Cole challenge. He found himself getting more and more annoyed at Cole's treatment of Jim Ross. The man was a living legend but Laurinaitis was letting Cole make a fool of him in front of the entire WWE Universe. Punk just couldn't take the idiocy any longer and, however unadvisedly, got up with the intention of going to the ring and stopping this farce. Neither John nor Randy questioned him when he got up and left the monitor bay.

Punk had his music cued up and grabbed a mic, entering the ring just as the humiliating weigh-in had concluded. Punk knew that going out to the ring was probably more a product of him feeling like he was about to crawl out of his skin from the emotional pressures he was currently under than being afflicted with some sort of white knight syndrome. Cole looked extremely unhappy to see him which was a facial expression he was used to seeing on a select group of his colleagues these days.

Punk voiced what a colossal waste of time the so-called challenge was and that Michael Cole's fifteen minutes of fame were up. He was steadily degrading Cole when that hated monotone voice rang though the arena, Laurinaitis was there to stop what Punk considered a vital service he could render to the WWE Universe which was getting rid of Michael Cole, at least for the rest of Raw.

Laurianitis thought he was punishing Punk by setting up a match with him teaming up with the Big Show against Mark Henry and del Rio. He was damn sure that Laurinaitis was not aware that he was doing the smartest thing he could do by setting up a match for him. When an actual match was on the line he was going to be concentrating on the fight ahead of him and not running around the WWE dropping pipe bombs left and right. He looked over his shoulder and saw Cole laughing it up and then demanding an apology. Since his temper was on a very short fuse right now, he abandoned his mic in favor of putting Cole in the Anaconda Vise and repeatedly yelling that he was sorry the whole entire time. He finally relented and left Cole writhing in pain in the ring.

He walked back to the monitor bay, retaking his seat, and turned to John who was truly smiling for the first time in a week.

"I think you just lived the dream of the majority of the roster," John said jokingly.

John's mood seemed to steadily improve as the show progressed as did Punk's when Jim Ross took Cole's place on commentary because Cole was probably somewhere whining like a girl at the moment. John and Punk had settled into their usual back and forth with interjections from Randy from time to time. Punk was severely disappointed when Cole returned to commentary, his arm in a sling, and Jim Ross was forced to leave. He must not have cinched in the Vise hard enough because he thought what he had done would be enough to guarantee him at least one blessedly Cole free night.

Things went progressively downhill when a road agent approached John and said that Mick Foley had requested John's presence in the ring. Both Punk and Randy looked at him with as much sympathy as they could muster. Anything involving Mick Foley, an open ring and a microphone had the probability to go very, very wrong. John trudged down the hallway, probably partly because of Foley and partly because this would be the first time tonight that he would face the hometown crowd that despised him and had no trouble expressing that.

When Foley announced his intent to try to make the crowd appreciate John like he did, Punk knew that John was in for something horrid. John entered the arena to a deafening chorus of boos. Punk watched in horror as the perverse This is Your Life played out. Every guest, including John's own father, just made the crowd turn against John more, if that was even possible. There were many moments when John looked to want to escape from the ring, but he was too polite to just abandon Foley there. Punk had never been so happy to see the Rock show up and Rock Bottom Foley, ending the horrific segment.

Punk turned to look at Randy who had a slightly pained expression on his face, "That was like a car wreck that you just can't look away from."

"I'd better go find John before he tries to hang himself with extra ring ropes or something."

Punk walked toward the arena entrance, watching John enter a room. Punk followed him in, just in time to see John put his fist through a wall.

"What the fuck! Foley has no idea how close he was to getting an Attitude Adjustment. I thought all I had to worry about was a hostile crowd and the Rock's smarminess, but now this! It would serve them all right if I pulled an Austin and just took my ball and went home. If the Rock is so exciting he can take on Miz and Truth by himself."

Punk walked behind John and gingerly put his hands on John's shoulders which immediately slumped.

"I'll go find Foley right now and put him in the Vise for a couple of minutes, choke him out so he can't perpetrate any more clusterfucks that include you tonight."

John just sighed and turned around in Punk's arms, wrapping his arms around Punk's waist and resting his head on his neck, still breathing heavily from his tirade. All the fight had gone out of John just as quickly as it had appeared.

"I'm fine now, let's go back to the monitor bay and watch the rest of the show."

"Are you sure? You still have to face the Rock tonight."

"I dare him to cut loose on me in my current mood. Everything he dishes out he's going to get right back."

John left the room and Punk followed him, still shocked by the burst of extreme anger he had witnessed from John.

Punk stayed with him in the monitor bay until it was time for his own match. He was walking through the backstage area when he was hit from behind and then thrown into the side of a truck. He fell to the floor and del Rio started kicking and punching him viciously. The officials eventually pulled del Rio off of him and del Rio walked away, no doubt on his way to the ring very happy with himself thinking he had taken Punk out of action. No way was Punk going to let that go down. He heaved himself up and walked to the arena entrance clutching his shoulder. He met the Big Show at the entrance who opened his mouth to say something but Punk just glared and Big Show closed his mouth.

He stalked to the ring, determined to put del Rio in as much pain as he was in. He tried to attack del Rio, but he just ran away from him. He eventually settled on the ring apron for the match, he would have to take care of del Rio in the ring. He finally got his turn on del Rio and beat him down, practically getting disqualified in the process for repeatedly assaulting del Rio in the corner. He eventually tagged out and the match went back and forth between the four men. Big Show got del Rio down and Mark Henry was staggering. Punk took the opening and spring boarded off the top rope only to be caught mid air by Henry and was the recipient of a World's Strongest Slam. He was stunned and found himself being pinned by del Rio. Del Rio's music blasted through the arena and then he felt himself being put into the Cross Arm Breaker, del Rio viciously torturing his arm. Del Rio finally relinquished the hold but the damage had already been done.

Punk stalked backstage, passing the monitor bay without a look and storming into the locker room. He undressed quickly and sequestered himself in the shower because if anyone tried to speak to him right now they would regret it.

Punk spent a while in the shower, letting the hot water relax his abused arm. When he finally emerged from the shower he found John sitting on the bench waiting for him.

"I really don't think we should talk right now, I don't have any control over what's going to come out of my mouth."

"You talked me down after watching me put my hand through a wall; I think I should be able to return the favor."

Punk stood stock still as John approached him slowly, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into his body. Punk stood stationary, his hands clenched by his side for a few minutes, then finally bringing his arms up to wrap around John's waist, laying his head on John's chest.

"What the hell is wrong with me? I can't shake del Rio loose; I'm constantly at his mercy, what chance do I have at Survivor Series if he keeps attacking me every time I turn my back."

"None of that matters."

"Of course it matters; he's made me look completely inept."

"Sure, on Raw, but Raw doesn't really matter. Just because he keeps up these stealth attacks doesn't mean he has what it takes to retain the title at Survivor Series when it's just you two in the ring. You're the best in the world, remember? I'll have your back right until the moment you step onto that ramp."

"It's amazing that you've gotten through the hell you've been put through tonight, with more to come might I add, and you still find it in you to give me one of your patented John Cena pep talks."

"Now that you've gotten to the point where you won't go out there and skewer one of our co-workers emotionally, let's rejoin the guys. First, give me a kiss; I might be trying to drown myself later after my confrontation with the Rock."

Punk lifted his head and their lips touched softly. Punk pulled back but John chased his lips, fusing them together, licking the seam of Punk's mouth which opened allowing their tongues to tangle briefly. John pulled back, smiling, dimples in full display.

"I changed my mind. If the Rock embarrasses the hell out of me I might be in need of pity sex later on tonight.

"That I can do."

Punk and John returned to the monitor bay just in time to see the end of Randy's match. At least someone's night wasn't sucking horribly. The Rock's music hit and Punk knew John's night was getting ready to get a hell of a lost worse. John just looked at him, breathed in deeply, and walked towards the arena entrance. Punk just couldn't understand the ovation the Rock was getting considering he constantly promised to stay in the WWE only to flake off to go film some movie.

Punk watched as the Rock went on and on and he finally called out the Miz and Truth. Miz and Truth tried to issue a verbal beat down but it seemed pretty anticlimactic after the Rock. They were leaving the ring when John's music cued up. John briefly insulted the Miz but then turned his ire on the Rock with the Rock firing back with comments just as insulting as John's. This tag team was doomed to failure. Punk thought John would be lucky to get out of the ring without being Rock Bottomed.

He was almost choked on oxygen when Rock mentioned John's so-called lady parts. He wondered if John would mind if he sent out a press release categorically denying the existence of his lady parts.

Miz and Truth interrupted the back and forth which Punk knew to be a fatal mistake. The Rock's ego was too big to let anyone share the spotlight with him. Miz and Truth found themselves on the wrong end of a beat down, the Rock hitting the Rock Bottom on Truth. John went to AA Miz but Rock pulled him off John's shoulders and Rock Bottomed him as well. Punk could see from the look on John's face that he was pissed as hell.

By the time John got backstage Punk was waiting with their bags.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Punk said, handing John his bag.

"Gladly."


	19. Chapter 19

_AN: Here's a short little interlude to tide you over until the next chapter._

Punk and John got into a cab and headed for the hotel. Punk stared out the window for a while until he felt John's hand caress his knee, his fingers lightly brushing the underside. He looked over at John who was staring at him with a look on his face that could only be described as positively wicked.

"That isn't the face of someone that just got his spotlight stolen from the Rock."

"Screw the Rock, if he wants to do all the work that's fine with me. It should be hilarious at Survivor Series because I'm sure he's got a pretty severe case of ring rust. Who cares about the Rock anyways, I have a much better idea on how I want to spend my night and it in no way involves thinking about him," John said seductively, as he had been inching his hand up Punk's shorts until the hem impeded his movements. "Now is one of those times when I wish you were running around in your gear, but don't worry, I won't let them get in my way."

John skimmed over the surface of Punk's hitched up shorts and gripped the inside of Punk's thigh, squeezing so hard that it was sure to leave marks.

"John…" Punk said hesitantly, "We're in a cab…"

"At this point I don't care where we are," John whispered moving his hand to Punk's groin and massaging his erection.

Punk looked up at the driver to see if he was watching but his eyes were fixed on the road and not the imminent hand job that was occurring in the back of his cab.

John applied more pressure and Punk could feel himself getting hard, "Phil, stop looking at the cab driver and look at me or I'm going to keep my hands to myself."

Punk stared into John's eyes, sucking his lip ring into his mouth debating between calling a halt to the public foreplay John was instigating or just letting John continue. There really wasn't much of a decision to make with the blood leaving his brain and racing toward his hardening cock. "Don't stop, John, please…"

"I wouldn't have stopped even if you asked me to anyway," John said heatedly continuing his attempt to get Punk off while he was fully clothed.

Punk was thankful that he wore such loose shorts and had forgone boxers that night when John reached into his pocket, enabling him to get a firm grip on his cock. The combination of the rough material, John's firm grip, and the possibility of getting caught had him fully hard in minutes. Punk's head lolled against the back of the seat, rolling to the side so that he never took his eyes off John's. John's face started to move closer to his and for a second Punk thought that John was going to kiss him in the back of the cab, but he stopped a few inches short resting his cheek on the back of the seat.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" John said roughly, just as caught up in the sensation of doing something so dangerous.

"Yes, but…"

Punk was cut off as John brushed his lips across Punk's lightly and laid his head back down next to Punk's.

"That wasn't a kiss."

"It was just a taste, better things are coming, I promise," John said softly, still stroking Punk. Punk felt his muscles start to contract, he was so close.

"When I get you alone in the hotel room I'm going to rip all your clothes off, throw you on the bed and fuck you so hard your eyes are going to cross."

That bit of dirty talk coming from such a usually pristine mouth was enough to make him come, biting his lip so hard he tasted blood in an attempt not scream out John's name and alert the cab driver to what was going on in the backseat. Punk felt the wetness slipping down between his thighs that were still quivering from the force of his orgasm.

"Why do you do these things to me…" Punk forced out with labored breath.

"Because I can and you know you love it. Besides, I'm going to be pounding so hard into that hot ass of yours tonight I might be distracted and you know how much I like to watch you come. This was just a preview."

Punk's eyes left John's and stared up at the roof of the cab, his body heating up at an exponential rate just thinking of all the things John had planned for him tonight. Punk felt John lay a light kiss behind his ear, his tongue lapping at the skin once. John moved his mouth to Punk's ear, whispering, "You taste so sweet as always, but I want you anything but sweet tonight."

They finally pulled up to the entrance of the hotel, Punk paying the driver while John adjusted himself, not wanting to walk through the lobby with an obvious erection.

They checked in and entered the empty elevator. Before the door had even closed completely, John was on Punk, pushing him against the wall of the elevator, the handrail digging into the small of his back but he couldn't care less. John was kissing him wildly, his tongue mapping out every inch of his mouth and rubbing his cock against the leg Punk had inserted between his thighs. They continued kissing each other voraciously.

"Don't stop on my account boys, this looks like it's getting good. Want me to press the emergency stop button?"

They broke apart quickly, looking to the front of the elevator where Melina was standing with a sly smile on her face. Punk looked at the elevator panel and saw that they were on the top floor where the gym and rooftop pool was located. He and John had been so absorbed in each other that they had missed their floor. The door must have opened at some point, and considering all the roster's rooms were on the same floor, it was entirely possible that someone had gotten quite a show.

Melina pressed the button for the elevator to return to their floor," Are you sure I can't come with you, John got held back by Laurinaitis and I could use some naughty entertainment while waiting for him."

"Keep dreaming, woman," John said forcefully, grabbing both his and Punk's bags in one hand and Punk's hand with the other, dragging them down the hall to their room.

"Have fun boys," Melina said coyly, while walking past them down to her own room.

John dropped their bags and opened the door, kicking their luggage into the room and pulling Punk into their room swiftly. He slammed the door closed, pinning Punk against it. John resumed kissing Punk furiously, grinding his erection into Punk's leg. Punk was content to let John have his way with him against the door. John grinded against Punk for a few more moments until John groaned into their kiss, his body going limp.

"I thought I was promised clothes ripping, frenzied sex tonight."

"You and your smart fucking mouth," John growled, pulling Punk away from the door by his shirt so hard that Punk could hear seams ripping, John pulling the offending garment over Punk's head. He dropped to his knees, pulling off Punk's shoes and socks and then yanking his shorts down to his feet. John stood up, making short work of his clothes, his cock already starting to harden again.

John wrapped his arms around Punk's waist, lifting his feet a few inches off the ground, carrying Punk across the room and then tossing Punk onto the bed. John stared at Punk laid out before him for a few moments and then he covered Punk's body with his, attacking Punk's neck with tongue and teeth, his hands sliding down Punk's thighs until he spread Punk's legs open wider, hitching Punk's legs over his shoulders.

Punk felt John at his entrance and John pushed into him violently, taking him raw with no preparation or lube, this mixture of pleasure and pain was exactly what Punk needed to turn his brain to mush, John's name on his lips with every manic thrust. John's hands were digging into Punk's hips, slamming their pelvises together. John was fucking him with such wild abandon that Punk had never felt before.

John was hitting his prostate with every thrust and Punk could feel the heat coiling in his stomach even though John had never touched his cock. He threw his head back, spine bowing, as he came between them, his walls constricting around John's cock who followed him over the edge soon after. John rested his full weight against Punk's body, Punk feeling John's heart racing as fast as his own.

John kissed him languidly for a few moments and then began trailing kisses down his chest and abdomen, licking up Punk's come along the way. He reached Punk's hipbone and bit down hard, no doubt leaving a set of bite marks that would still be there the next day. John dipped his tongue into Punk's navel and raised his head until Punk looked down at him.

"Hands and knees."

Punk flipped over on his stomach, rising on his hands and knees. Even though his shoulder was screaming in this position he couldn't bring himself to care. John was running his hands down Punk's sides, pressing open mouthed kisses down his spine. When he reached the base he nudged Punk's legs open wider, feeling John lick up the come that was trailing down his thighs. John grasped Punk's ass, opening him wide, John lapping at his loosened hole. He felt John penetrate him with his tongue, the noises John was making were absolutely obscene and Punk felt himself getting hard again.

When John's mouth ceased his ministrations, Punk braced himself for John to enter him he felt John grip him around his waist and they rolled across the bed until Punk was on top, feeling that John was just as aroused as himself. John lifted his head up and Punk met his lips, his tongue seeking out John's, his taste on John's tongue making him ever harder. He steadied himself on John's chest, straddling his waist, intending to ride him when John stilled his hips.

"Phil, I want you to fuck me, fuck me so hard that I won't be able to do anything but scream out your name."

Punk smiled wantonly, moving between John's legs and wrapping them around his waist. He breached John fiercely, winding his fingers together with John's, he pinned them over John's head. He thrust into John brutally, intent on giving John exactly what he asked for. He knew he had found John's prostate when John started moaning his name unceasingly. Punk began to thrust into John for all that he was worth, resolved to give John something he would feel for days. He felt John's walls start to pulse around him. Punk held on until John came, fucking him through his orgasm, until the pressure of John around him became too much and he came deep inside John.

Punk collapsed on John's chest, unrestraining John's arms from over his head. John wrapped his arms around Punk and pulled him into a kiss so gentle, Punk could barely feel it. John tucked his head into Punk's neck, Punk feeling John's harsh breathing fanning out against his neck.

"Consider yourself promoted to number one as the best fuck I have ever had in my life."

"What the fuck! Who was number one before me!"

"Oh, it was you, but you should consider this effort your personal best."

Punk just smiled smugly into John's shoulder.

"Hey! Aren't you going to tell me where I fall?"

"I had sex before you? I can barely remember, it's all a little hazy."

"I fucking adore you Phil, do you know that?"

"That's as it should be. I know I'm irresistible."

"Don't I know it, I've found it impossible to resist you since we met."

Punk felt his heart skip a beat. He wasn't usually susceptible to endearments but, as in all things, John was the exception.


	20. Chapter 20

**November 20, 2011**

_Survivor Series_

Punk and John had been limited to seeing each other only at night when both men were so exhausted they just fell into bed together. The never ending cycle of appearances, autograph signings, and TV and radio interviews kept them both busy during the day. They were frequently seated far from each other when their paths crossed because John Cena fans and CM Punk fans were two contingents that should be separated less a riot would break out. Punk was elated when the night of Survivor Series dawned. His required publicity work had halted, his shoulder was at 100% and he had a chance to win the WWE Championship that night.

He and John entered the arena with John walking a few steps behind Punk, playing the diligent bodyguard to a T, making sure that there was no way that del Rio could perpetrate a sneak attack before the match. They found their assigned locker room and began to get ready for the pay per view, putting street clothes on over their gear due to their matches being the last two on the card.

They took their seats in the monitor bay briefly joined by Randy and Melina. Melina left to comfort Morrison after losing to Dolph Ziggler and after Randy's team was unable to beat Barrett's due to a strange twist of fate that saw the injury of Sin Cara and Sheamus getting himself disqualified, Randy stalked to the locker room and never appeared again for the rest of the show.

Punk's match was drawing closer and he and John walked to the arena entrance with a pit stop in an empty room for a very thorough kiss for good luck, though John didn't call it that due to Punk's aversion to being wished good luck under any circumstances. Nearing the entrance they could hear del Rio's music, John was shocked when Punk approached a waiting Howard Finkel and shook his hand. Howard entered the arena and was met with thunderous applause.

"How did you come up with this?" John asked, surprised at this turn of events.

"A WWE Champion deserves the best and Finkel is the best. Del Rio's slimy ring announcer has nothing on Howard Finkel," Punk said, obviously a little choked up at being introduced by the best ring announcer in the history of the company. Punk's music cued up and Punk hesitated for a moment.

"Don't worry, you've got this in the bag." Punk nodded once and cleared the curtain leading to the arena.

Del Rio was obviously annoyed that Punk had upstaged him with his ring announcer for the night. Punk walked into the arena and the reaction of the crowd was almost overwhelming. It seemed that Madison Square Garden was CM Punk territory. The "We Want Ice Cream" chant seemed to inflame del Rio even more.

Punk immediately went to work on del Rio's shoulder. He had no intention of pinning del Rio tonight. The man was going to tap out to the Anaconda Vise and that was all there was to it. It seemed that his plan was going well if the amount of times del Rio bailed out of the ring to get away from him was any judge. Punk eventually got tired of del Rio's frequent time outs and flattened him with a suicide dive through the ropes and then threw del Rio back in the ring.

Punk was running the match until Rodriguez decided to make his presence known and slapped him across the face. He vaulted out of the ring and chased Rodriguez only to be the recipient of the same suicide dive from del Rio that he had just utilized himself. He and del Rio seemed to be working from the same game plan as del Rio slammed Punk's arm repeatedly against the steps outside of the ring before throwing him back in and getting more of the same from del Rio.

Del Rio finally misjudged a move, giving Punk time to try to get feeling back in the arm that del Rio had been punishing mercilessly. After getting del Rio back in the ring Punk took control of the match for a time until del Rio get the better of him. He hated to admit it but del Rio was a competent opponent.

The match went back and forth until del Rio locked in the Cross Arm Breaker. Punk writhed in pain as he struggled to find his way to the ropes to break the hold. He was finally able to wrap his feet around the bottom rope but the damage had been done. Del Rio rolled him up for a pin, grabbing his trunks, but he managed to kick out.

Punk took advantage of del Rio's momentary loss of focus, arguing with the official about the count. Punk dragged del Rio to the mat, locking in the Anaconda Vise. Del Rio struggled against it; grabbing everything he could on Punk's face to break the hold. At one point del Rio's fingers found his way into his mouth and he bit down savagely. Moments later del Rio was tapping, just like Punk had planned. He had beaten del Rio; he was the new WWE Champion. Having Howard Finkel announce him as such was going to count as one of the happiest moments of his career. Punk was so elated he left the ring and jumped the barricade into the arms of the fans. The crowd was going wild after his victory.

Punk finally made his way backstage and found himself briefly in the arms of John who tried to quickly pull him away but was stopped by the crowd of well-wishers from the roster. John found himself feeling slightly jealous as Melina ran up to Punk and kissed him right on the mouth and then hugged him tightly. John wished that he could do the same to Punk, but because of their careers he would have to restrain himself, which was becoming harder and harder every day.

Eventually the crowd thinned out and John pulled Punk down the hallway into an empty room, locking the door behind them in case there were any more unwelcome congratulations from their co-workers.

"Don't you have a match soon?"

"Screw the Rock. I'm dating the new WWE Champion, I can get away with being a little late, they're not going to start the match without me," John said, pulling Punk to his body by his biceps and kissing him thoroughly, eventually pulling back and taking in Punk's appearance, lips swollen red and his hair more of a wreck than it had been after the match. "I've got to get to the arena entrance before the Rock decides to Rock Bottom me for holding his highness up. By the way, I'm so going to lay into del Rio the first chance I get."

"I think I already took care of that."

"This has nothing to do with the Championship. When he pinned you and grabbed your tights he pretty much put your ass on display for the entire WWE Universe to get a look at and you know how much I hate to share, especially where your pert ass is concerned." John started to walk away then turned back around laying a quick kiss on Punk's lips. "No matter what happens out there in my match you are so getting rewarded later for your win."

John looked at Punk heatedly for a few seconds and then he was out the door. Punk made his way to the monitor bay and pulled on his street clothes even though he was a sweaty mess, no way was he going to miss John's match. He took a seat alone in the back of the room. Truth and Miz came out to a tepid reaction. Punk had a feeling that they were saving their ire for John.

He was proved right when the crowd started chanting "Cena Sucks" even before his music hit. The first notes of John's music played and the crowd practically booed him out the building. John just smiled his usual Cena smile but then Punk saw John's face fall for a moment before the smile was back on his face. By the time he got into the ring the smile seemed to be wiped off his face permanently as he started to remove his T and dog tags.

The Rock's music queued up and he entered the arena with the crowd screaming so loudly that the rafters must be shaking. Punk felt keenly how much this must bother John to be degraded like this and have to deal with the Rock's ovation when he wrestled day in and day out and the Rock showed up two or three times per year not including his satellite videos. He could see John trying to speak to the Rock but he was being soundly ignored. He eventually took his spot on the ring apron with the Rock starting off the match against Miz.

The Rock didn't seem to have any of the expected ring rust but Punk didn't think two minutes of wrestling was deserving of a "You've Still Got It" chant. The Rock finally acknowledged John on the ring apron only to glare at him and then returned to the action in the ring against Truth. The bloodthirsty crowd picked up a new chant of, "Don't Tag Cena, Cena Sucks." This was truly a clusterfuck of gigantic proportions.

John entered the ring to prevent a double team that distracted the official so that he missed the Rock putting Truth in a pinning combination. Punk couldn't tell if John had done that accidentally or on purpose. The smile that he gave the Rock afterwards seemed to point to the latter. John's actions spurred on the crowd that began the "Fruity Pebbles" chant. There really wasn't any crowd as vicious as a Madison Square Garden crowd.

The Rock eventually tagged John in, slapping away John's outstretched hand that technically counted as a tag. The crowd greeted John's entrance into the match with the expected, "You Can't Wrestle," chant. John put together a good combination of opening moves that earned him the "You Still Suck" chant.

John was the victim of a series of brutal double teams but the Rock couldn't seem to care less. He actually stepped into the ring from time to time, distracting the official so that John could be beaten down even more. John took the brunt of the punishment, the Rock watching from the ring apron.

Miz and Truth suddenly started attacking the Rock, throwing him into the ring barrier. Punk decided that he was going to become a temporary Miz and Truth fan if they kept behavior like that up. At this point John was so stunned that he couldn't seem to figure out which corner was his, eventually tagging the Rock in who immediately started to clean house, delivering the Rock Bottom to Truth but Miz was still in it and started taking apart the Rock. Punk was a little worried because John was nowhere to be seen, he must be laid out outside the ring somewhere.

The Rock pinned Miz with the use of the People's Elbow, which in Punk's opinion, was about as useless a finishing maneuver as the leg drop. John eventually showed up on camera again walking away from the ring, but the Rock motioned for John to come back to the ring. Punk knew better and was pleading for John just to keep walking back up the ramp, but he didn't and got back in the ring with the Rock.

There was some conversation that was being exchanged between them but Punk couldn't make it out. And then, just as he expected, the Rock delivered the Rock Bottom to John. John rolled out of the ring and was lying on the floor clutching his back. Punk was dying to go out there and introduce the Rock to the GTS but he knew that this was John's dispute and his presence would not be welcomed.

Punk stood up and waited by the hallway, John passing him without a look, and Punk followed him silently to the locker room. He watched as John pulled on a shirt and grabbed his things heading for the door. Punk was sure that John was just going to keep walking until he stopped and barely looked over his shoulder.

"Are you coming?"

Punk grabbed his things, including his new Championship belt and walked out of the arena and found a cab to the hotel. The ride was silent, John looking out the window and Punk looking both at John and the Championship belt that was stretched across his lap. Their hotel room tonight was not going to be very enjoyable. John had been humiliated but he had won the Championship. Punk doubted very seriously that any celebration would be going on tonight.

They entered their hotel room, John dropping his things and sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Punk gingerly walked toward John when he jumped up and grabbed the lamp from the bedside table, sending it careening into the wall.

"Motherfucker! I should just walk the fuck out on them and leave them with their beloved Rock. See how much they like having satellite feeds instead of main events."

"John…"

"Don't even. You're The Champ now, you celebrate by throwing yourself into the crowd, if I tried that I'd probably get a bottle smashed over my head. You make one speech and you go from being hated to being revered in one week," John stalked toward Punk and grabbed the belt from his hands and chucked it the way of the lamp. As the belt fell to the floor, John looked appalled at what he had done.

"Jesus Christ, I'm so fucking sorry Phil," and John hurried over to pick up the belt, checking it over to make sure that it wasn't damaged and handed it back to Punk.

"You're legitimately pissed and it's not like that belt makes me a Champion, winning does. If every person with that belt was a Champion, half the crowd would be WWE Champion. No offense to your sense of style but if you had broken it I could have requested an upgrade. Are you done destroying things now?"

"Yes, me acting like a total dick has come to a halt. I just don't understand, there's nothing that I can do differently than what I'm already doing."

"You could tell the fans to go fuck themselves."

"I think we both know that I would never do that," John said, as he walked across the room, picking up the pieces of the lamp he had destroyed and throwing them in the trashcan. "I know this is one of the best nights of your life and I'm completely ruining it."

"If I had to deal with what happened to you tonight I would have probably set fire to the bed by now. We're both sweaty and gross. Let's just take a shower and go to bed, I'll even let you be the small spoon."

"I throw your belt across the room and still get invited to fondle your wet, naked body. Maybe I should destroy more hotel room furniture."

"Try not to because they're going to blame it on me. No way would John Cena go all rock star and trash the place."

_AN: I know I've been giving you short updates but I figure that's better than nothing at all. I hope you are all up to date and saw TLC because I can't tell you how fast my brain went in the gutter seeing Punk in handcuffs. Thank you for all the great reviews, even if the last chapter made you feel like you needed a shower. It's amazing that in a few short months I've gone from never writing a sex scene to writing something so dirty. It's an accomplishment of some sort._


	21. Chapter 21

**November 21, 2011**

_Monday Night Raw_

John and Punk walked into the arena in Hershey for Monday Night Raw for the aftermath of Survivor Series. They found their assigned locker room and talked to the other guys while waiting for the road agent to appear and set the card for that night. It appeared that both men were not scheduled for matches but were expected to address the crowd concerning the events of Survivor Series. Punk wasn't exactly expecting a cake walk since Laurinaitis could appear at any given time and assign him a match randomly and del Rio would probably show up demanding his rematch. He was more worried about John's current state of mind. The anger he had shown last night had dissipated but Punk had no idea what John would do when faced with another hostile crowd.

Punk didn't bother putting on his gear on and walked through the labyrinth of hallways until he reached the arena entrance. Even if he was put on the spot and forced into a match immediately, he would still be able to wrestle in his street clothes. His music cued up and he entered the arena with his new Championship belt to a thunderous round of applause. The majority of the crowd were probably fans of his but he didn't doubt that some of them were just cheering because they didn't have to put up with del Rio's blathering about his destiny anymore. He made his way to the ring ready to relay to the fans what they could expect from his Championship reign. He was finally in a position to affect the change he had guaranteed this summer.

He entered the ring and celebrated his win with the fans. He glanced over to the announce table and caught sight of Michael Cole who seemed to be having a conniption fit of some sort, no doubt pissed as hell that he now had to refer to him as the WWE Champion. He grabbed a mic from the ring tech. He wanted to begin a new era in the WWE that made the company focus on professional wrestling and not sports entertainment, whatever the hell that was. He was the new face of the WWE and he intended to be from here on out.

He took a seat in the middle of the ring asking one of the most important questions in his mind, "Where the hell are my WWE Ice Cream Bars?" which made the crowd go wild. He started harping on the ineptitude of Laurinaitis which would no doubt summon the most useless Raw GM in history to the ring. He got maybe five more words out before that hated monotone voice interrupted him. Laurinaitis must be stupider than he thought if he couldn't understand why there was such antipathy between the two of them. He decided to incite Laurinaitis more because honestly, he would be bored hanging around the backstage area with nothing to do.

Laurinaitis' ego delivered and announced that del Rio would be getting his rematch on the next Raw. While that was perfectly acceptable, he would have preferred the match be tonight. Laurinaitis booked a match between him and Dolph Ziggler when Punk knew what all the fans really wanted to see was Ziggler vs. Zack Ryder, which the crowd backed him up with a "We Want Ryder," chant. Of course Laurinaitis threw a wrench in the works booking Ryder vs. del Rio. Punk felt sorry for Ryder who was no doubt going to bear the brunt of del Rio's frustration after losing the title last night. Punk accepted his match against Ziggler and made his way up the ramp to Laurinaitis so that he could deliver his closing comments in Laurinaitis' personal space, that one of these days someone was going to give him the beat down he deserved.

Punk left the arena and made his way back to the monitor bay, dropping his belt on the seat next to John and then heading to the locker room to change into his gear. When he returned to the monitor bay he found John with a huge smile on his face.

"What did I miss?"

"Apparently after we left the arena last night the Rock started to give a speech but was interrupted when the crowd started chanting for Ryder, it was hilarious. The Rock said he was also a Ryder fan, but I would lay money on the fact that he doesn't even know who Zack is."

"If he can upstage the Rock and give him back some of the humiliation that he caused you I might have to start being nicer to the guy."

"There's nothing wrong with Zack and he's a friend of mine."

"You have to admit that the guy is pretty strange."

"You really should relate more to the guy. I mean you both came by your popularity completely on your own with no help from the WWE and you were already the Broski of the week on the first episode of his show."

"I don't even want to know what that entailed. Fine, I'll be nicer to him but if his weirdness gets out of hand I'm going to bail and leave you to deal with him on your own. You're a terrible influence you know, I've found myself actually liking some of my co-worker's and it's all your fault."

John just smiled and turned his attention to the monitor for Ryder's match. They watched as Ryder made his way to the ring to take on del Rio. Punk cracked up when Ryder interrupted del Rio's entrance with his "Woo Woo Woo, You Know It" chant. Maybe Ryder wasn't as bad as he thought. Things went downhill fast when it was quickly obvious that del Rio was taking all his frustrations out on Ryder, taking him down quickly and making him tap to the Cross Arm Breaker.

John and Punk traded digs back and forth about the show until Ziggler appeared on the screen with his harpy Vicky Guerrero, Punk not offering any sarcastic remarks while Ziggler spoke.

"No witty comments?"

"Not really, I'm not stupid enough to admit that Ziggler isn't competition because he is. He's come a hell of a long way since he was a male cheerleader and I'd be a moron not to take him seriously. He's actually on my list of people on the roster that could give me a real run for my money. I'm still going to beat him but it's not going to be easy."

A road agent came to bring Punk to the arena entrance for his match against Ziggler.

He entered the arena and wasted no time beginning the match. Ziggler took him to the edge, Punk finally winning but it was no easy victory. Punk could taste the blood in his mouth from when Ziggler had connected on a particularly vicious punch. He had a feeling that this wasn't going to be the last time he found himself in the ring with Ziggler.

He made a quick trip to the locker room to shower and then returned to John in the monitor bay. It was soon time for John to make his way to the ring. Punk knew that there was a sliver of a chance that John might just go off on the fans, but Punk had a feeling that John Cena, the nicest guy in the WWE, would be in attendance tonight. John made his way to the ring and while there were still boos, thankfully it was a much tamer crowd than the night before.

John started off by putting over Ryder and then congratulating Punk on his win the night before which no doubt baffled the fans. John started in on the Rock, being much kinder to the man concerning his actions last night than the Rock had any reason to deserve. He was interrupted by Miz and Truth who had no problem throwing in John's face the brutal reality of what happened at Survivor Series.

He wanted to smack the taste out of Miz's mouth when he said to John, "You're always saying that you can't see me, but last night no one wanted to see you."

Miz and Truth must have put John in some kind of vindictive mood because in a few short sentences John managed to cause the dissolution of Awesome Truth with Miz hitting the Skull Crushing Finale on Truth on the grating of the ramp. John's words to Awesome Truth were shades of John Cena from ten years ago. All that was missing was the padlock necklace, the throwback jersey and the rapping. Punk was especially thankful that the rapping hadn't made an appearance.

John came back to the monitor bay with a huge smile on his face, his dimples popping. He had obviously enjoyed what had just taken place in the arena. The roster started to scatter, everyone grabbing their things and heading to the hotel, and then god knows where since there wasn't any house shows scheduled before the next Raw and the roster didn't have any public appearances since the rush before Survivor Series had been so exhausting. It wasn't often that the WWE let their roster take a few days to themselves.

John and Punk grabbed a cab to the hotel and went up to their room. Punk entered the room first and found himself being lifted off his feet and tossed onto the bed.

"I know I spoiled your night last night with my antics but I think I still owe you a reward after your win at Survivor Series," John said, stripping off his clothes as he approached the bed.

Punk started to undress when John stilled his hands, "No. Let me," and John began to slowly undress him, hands all over him as John peeled off his clothes leisurely. Once all of Punk's clothes were removed John laid his body over Punk's, kissing him slowly but thoroughly, their tongues tangling together. After one last kiss John's mouth begin moving over Punk's body taking the path that his hands had explored. The descent of John's mouth halted when he reached Punk's navel, John resting his head on Punk's stomach, his fingers tracing Punk's hipbones, and John took several deep breaths before looking up at Punk. Punk eventually looked down at John, their eyes locking.

"Phil, I'm so lucky to have you. If you weren't here I don't know what I would do. Everything is so screwed up right now but when I'm with you I just can't seem to care."

Punk reached down and ran his hand over John's shorn hair, "I'm not going anywhere, I'm exactly where I want to be, there's not getting rid of me."

"I love you, there aren't even words…"

"There doesn't have to be, just know that I feel the same way. No matter what goes on around us we'll still have each other. John, I love you, more than I ever thought I was capable of."

John smiled, dimples in full force, and reached up to cradle Punk's head, kissing him until they both were breathless.

"Now where was I?"

Punk pointed to his navel, "You were right about here."

John moved back down Punk's body, kissing the skin tenderly until his mouth hovered over Punk's erection. He looked up again to see Punk propped up on his elbows watching his every move silently. John lowered his mouth over Punk's cock, never breaking eye contact. He took Punk all the way into his mouth but bobbed his head slowly, wanting to make it last as long as possible.

John ran one hand up Punk's warm, soft skin and brushed his fingers over Punk's lips. Punk opened his mouth and engulfed John's fingers into the wet heat of his mouth. Punk sucked them slowly, mirroring the intense mood that John had set. John pulled his fingers free, sliding his hand down Punk's body until he reached his entrance, gently inserting two fingers, opening Punk up gradually. Punk was unusually quiet but John could hear Punk's deep breaths in the quiet of their room.

Punk's erection slipped from John's mouth as he moved back up Punk's body, sinking his hands into Punk's hair, kissing him and trying to convey everything he was feeling through his actions. John entered Punk in one stroke, Punk immediately wrapping his arms and legs around John's body, trying to bring their bodies as close as possible. John rested his forehead against Punk's, thrusting smoothly inside Punk. He knew when he found Punk's prostate when Punk's mouth fell open and his limbs tightened even more around him.

"John, please…"

John responded to Punk's unspoken request and ran his hand smoothly down Punk's chest, sliding between them and gripping Punk's cock firmly, moving in time with his deep thrusts. Punk began to moan softly, the sounds coming from Punk's mouth incited John to move more intently, craving to see Punk come undone beneath him.

Punk moans transformed into John's name, John feeling Punk's channel started to tighten around him. John watched transfixed as Punk's eyelashes fluttered, pleasure overtaking his expression. Watching Punk was enough to send John over the edge. John's body went limp and he collapsed on Punk's body, his ear to Punk's chest, listening to his racing heart begin to slow.

John eventually lifted his head from Punk's chest, pressing his mouth to Punk's before reluctantly pulling out of Punk and lying next to him on the bed.

"That was…" Punk said lovingly.

John just nodded wordlessly into Punk's neck and looped his arm around Punk's shoulder.

"Come home to Tampa with me, I need you close to me right now."

"Yes, John, yes, whatever you say."

_AN: Happy Holidays! I bring you the gift of an update. My last round of reviews was so awesome I decided you guys deserved a quick turnaround. Hope you enjoy and keep the look out for the Winter installment, A Hazy Shade of Winter._


	22. Story Status Update

No, this isn't an update. I've decided to end this portion of the story here. I wanted to thank you for your reviews and support. Be on the lookout for the next phase of this fic, A Hazy Shade of Winter. Will it be out tomorrow or next week, I have no idea. It's all according to the fight between my laziness and creativity. Hope to see you all on the next go round.


End file.
